I've got a
thing or two to say about love... or maybe I don't. Anyway, on
January 2nd 2000, my marriage ended. Judging from my friends'
experiences, I'm not alone in this. It seems as though a lot of
people took a long hard look and said, "this isn't my life,
it sucks."
Although it
was depressing and a big shock to my comfortable rut, splitting
up certainly beat the alternative of staying in a crappy relationship
that would have been depressing for a lifetime. Or so I keep telling
myself.
Now I'm 35,
divorced with no kids (thank fucking god), and I have been moved
to reflect on love, relationships, and marriage. In reality, I
don't have a clue. My big new insight, if I can call it that,
is that I think I'm beginning to see a pattern in my relationships...
not a cheery one, not an especially bad one... just a pattern;
a five year cycle which I've been on since I was around 17. It's
serial monogamy and it goes that goes something like this : meet
a woman... 3 year love relationship with said woman... 1 year
petering out of relationship... end of relationship... 1 year
wondering what the hell happened... start again.
Suddenly
I'm gripped with the truly scary thought that Elizabeth Taylor's
love life doesn't seem so wacky anymore.
Assuming I
live to the average age of 72, I could potentially have seven
more of these relationships. I really don't know what to think
about that. I didn't grow up thinking that one day I'd be divorced,
let alone multiple times.Suddenly I'm gripped with the truly scary
thought that Elizabeth Taylor's love life doesn't seem so wacky
anymore At this rate, if I remain the marrying type, I could potentially
have had 10 wives by the time I kick the bucket.
I
have some baggage... not trunkloads, but more than a daypack...let's
say a dufflebag.
Being single
and 35 is quite a bit different than when I was single and 30
or single and 25. I'm more confident than I used to be, or maybe
just more oblivious. I think I'm benefiting from the fact that
women my age are finding that men my age are either married, gay,
or fucked up, and have lowered their standards accordingly. I'm
fucked up, but only some of the time. I have some baggage... not
trunkloads, but more than a daypack...let's say a dufflebag.
I do have
a past that can occasionally haunt me, especially since I've been
living in the same town all my life. Fortunately though, the bad
scenes are few and far between. I'm not hung up over any of my
ex's, for which I feel very fortunate. Most of the single women
I've been orbiting around lately are hung up on their ex's. Nothing
kills a potentially interesting evening like the arrival of an
ex-husband with an unfinished argument.
On the other
hand, what do I care? I'm pretty sure I'll meet a cool, only semi-fucked
up woman eventually. Things will run their course. I'll do my
best not to enter into it thinking, "Well, here goes another five
years". That wouldn't be very constructive.
So there
you have it. Compared with the last time I was single, I'm not
happier... sadder... wiser, or anything except older. I still
believe in love, I've been there. I don't know about "happily
ever after", but you never know... ask me again when I'm single
and 40.
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