I can hear some of you chuckling into your sleeves from here. Stop it. It’s not nice to laugh at people.
But I really did. I used to think I was a pretty savvy dater. I could play the game. I could play hard to get, I could relentlessly pursue, I could pretend I was this or that or the other thing, and I could do it all completely convincingly.
Or, what I thought was convincingly. Maybe I fooled no one, but I don’t really think that was the case. I was really good at pretending. And I’m pretty sure I fooled at least some people.
But that’s a two-edged knife, and I was certainly fooled by others. Karmic payback, perhaps. Perhaps it’s merely what one reaps when one sows seeds of such misdirection.
So I wasn’t even really a very good manipulator, in the final reckoning. Admitting mediocrity is a painful experience.
There’s a blow to my ego, right there. So stop laughing. It’s not nice to laugh at people.
But manipulating isn’t really being a savvy dater, is it?
No. I thought not. Is it sad that it’s taken me 10 years to scale the heights of common sense and reach this pinnacle of understanding?
Yes. It is. So stop laughing.
But hey, here I am. I’ve arrived here, at the base camp, to extend an already thin and trite analogy. I am ready to actually start climbing the mountain.
I don’t want to play hard to get anymore. I don’t want to have to pursue someone. I want to be walking alongside someone. Maybe sometimes it’s more like we’re running, because we’ve got somewhere to be. Maybe we’ve stopped to kiss under a streetlight for a while. But we’re walking up the mountain together.
(Why are there streetlights on the mountain, you ask. I say: Shut it. This is my analogy, and I’ll throw everything AND the kitchen sink into it if I want to.)
I want to make breakfast and read the paper and listen to NPR. I want to sit quietly late at night with books and just know that I’m not alone. I want to be able to call just because my boss said something unintentionally hilarious, or there’s a camel outside the window wearing a birthday hat and getting it’s picture taken.
Now I just have to figure out how to have all of those things, and a baby. But that’s a whole different issue.
I want companionship. I want love. I don’t want to play for it anymore, because really it ought to be given to each of us as a matter of course, because we are all human beings and we all deserve it. It’s not a prize that we can win, and it’s not a pie that some people get a slice of and others don’t.
Or rather, it shouldn’t be either of those things. It shouldn’t.
And I will not behave as if it is, anymore, because it’s wrong. I will not behave as if I am playing a game, and I will not act as if I’m trying to sneak something that I’m not entirely sure I deserve.
I deserve to be loved.
So does everybody else.
