I am a fabulous ex-girlfriend, just ask the multitude of men I have dated. Most, although admittedly not all (there were a few years where I just brought havoc and chaos), would tell you that I am easy to talk to, fun to hang out with and overall one of the sweetest people you will ever meet. I don't hang up on drunk dials, I will talk you through horrible painful break ups and I will spend every minute I am with you making sure that you are comfortable, content and totally having a blast. I am a party in 6 inch heels who goes out of her way to make sure your current girlfriend doesn't see her as a threat.
I have the ex girlfriend thing down pat and I have had years of practice. There really isn't much room for improvement in that area. Where I suffer tremendously is in the current girlfriend category. I am a horrible girlfriend. I don't know what it is, but put me in a room full of strangers and I can light up every single conversation. I am brash and brazen and brimming with confidence. Put me in a relationship, I pretty much become a neurotic shell of my former self. I am insecure and clingy and god knows that I am bitchy, moody and take everything as a personal slight. My exes tell me on a regular basis, and I quote, "I wish you were this cool when we were going out."
And herein lies the problem. I met someone 4 months ago and I fell hard. I have, over the past four months put up with his incessant need to break up with me daily, his inability to commit to anything that even looks remotely like a relationship, his refusal to introduce me to friends or family, and his utter lack of anything even close to compassion when I make a mistake or need a shoulder to cry on. He is, in short, every asshole guy I have worked years to stay away from. And to his credit, he doesn't mean to be, he's just not that into me. He's told me. On a number of occasions. In absolutely no uncertain terms. And yet, I continue to try to make things work, only to find myself repeatedly and utterly destroyed.
So this morning, as I was leaving his place to make the hour drive back to North Platte for work, I decided to end it. I didn't even do it in a classy way. I did it by text message. No explanation, no attempt to convince him otherwise, just boom, bang and it's done. In my defense, this is one text break up to literally 10 or more from him. I feel liberated and happy. But give me an hour I will feel like shit.
And this is the part I don't get. When I was in my twenties I had so much confidence, so much belief in myself that I never dated anyone who was a prick. Ok, I dated obnoxious guys that my friends didn't like, but they were always incredibly nice to me, which lets face it, was really the standard I was looking for, because friends will be your friends no matter how much of a douche your boyfriend is. But overall, they were nice guys. And there was no way I would have stayed with them if they weren't.
So why is that now, in my 30's, I am willing to sacrifice all those things that I found so important in my twenties? Why am I substituting financial security and education for someone who truly makes me laugh and tells me I'm beautiful? Why do I spend all of this energy on relationships with emotionally unavailable men when there are so many other men I come into contact with who would walk through fire before they ever hurt me? Well, quite frankly, I blame alcohol. And Katherine Heigel. I don't know yet how she's at fault, but she seems to be at fault for a lot of things these days, and she is every stupid and insipid romantic comedy out there, so I think I am on to something here. Oh wait did I say onto something? I think I meant on something....