O ye of limited self-awareness

"Nobody will love you like I love you." Which I now realize is far from a selling point to a man. Makes sense. This strategy of loving has certainly never endeared anyone to me.

I'm starting to think that it's my fault that I'm single. I had lunch with my friend the other day. She's hilarious, charming and kind. Lets call her Grace. Her marriage is fascinating to me. They are happy. They are settled. They don't seem to be bored, or play acting. This is a rarity. I don't know many marriages that are held together by more than routine, unwholesome co-dependency or obligation (or perhaps that's my uncharitable take on it. I'm certainly not an expert).

While we talked at lunch, I had an epiphany. I've been single for the better part of three years. And I realized that if Grace's marriage were to end (heaven forbid) her "three years later" would look very different from mine. I doubt she would be single. But we aren't so different. We are both foreign born,and raised in the suburbs of Maryland, partied at the same hole-in-the-wall-pre-gentrification nightclubs of DC. Both have an unhealthy obsession with coffee, ice cream and cake. So what's the diff?

Oh ye of limited self-awareness. I've made this remark jokingly a thousand times, but it's not so funny when it applies to me. When I'm being whimsical, I like to blame Turgenev. Turgenev's novella "First Love" was my first real introduction to Russian literature, and those Russians do a magnificent unrequited love and suffering. Okay, fine. I will stop trying to divert you with Red Herrings.

I don't have an explanation or an apology ready. Sometimes I don't know what I'm supposed to be apologizing for. "Why are you single?" was once sweet and flattering but now it has a connotation of judgment. Perhaps I deserve to be judged. One of my male friends told me recently that I remind him of the title character "Summer" from "500 days of Summer". REally? I remind you of a fictitious, callous, flakey, emotionally unavailable woman-child? Sadly there is a tiny grain of truth there. Second epiphany: it's not a coincidence that I'm a magnet for emotinally unavailable men. Birds of a feather.

"But I had a very bad break up," I could whine, but I know it's not about anything external. That's just another Red Herring. I think the first line says it best. For what it's worth, I'm not callous or fictitious, just a flakey, emotional unavailable woman-child thank you very much. And that's all the explanation and apology you'll get.