As much as I claim I wish I'd find an awesome guy here, my trend of connecting with geographically unattainable men continues. I'm beginning to start to maybe, perhaps, kind of, plan to consider the idea that deep down, I don't want a relationship right now... because if I did, it would just happen in L.A., right?
As much as I defend this city I love so much, the dating scene is, needless to say, a fucking fiasco of lack-luster love and lust. A collection of continuous skits of predictable play-by-plays.
My career has me traveling to much of the country for a few days at a time - instantaneous opportunity for hitting it and quitting it; A simple idea that for any man is a lascivious dream come true, but for a woman, puts her in a position of sexploration disguised as feminist prowess. Truth be told, these short stints in random cities are just an unapologetic course to slutting it up. From hoteliers in Chicago to Captain America in Boston, I've definitely enjoyed myself in my travels. It's all good and fun until one of them falls. And yes, there's always one. It's almost as though stating a blatant disinterest in any real commitment is the most promising way to gain such deflected interest. This paradox of rejection leading to more interest is yet another reason the male species will forever confuse me. But again, at least it's a simple theory - you say you don't want them and they want you. You say you do want them, and they "aren't wanting a relationship right now." Two plus two equals four, and running away makes them chase.
I was in Hawaii for a month for work. My boyfriend at the time had just moved to Los Angeles from the East coast, despite my very honest appeals to the move. I thought he would lose himself, crowd my space, resent me for leaving his home town, and I would feel suffocated. Two weeks in, I knew I was right and tried to break it off with this too-nice guy. He pathetically tried to hold on, but I was done in my head and heart. I was his muse - his escape - his excuse to run away... and I'm exhausted with trying to fulfill these lost boys with a hope and fantastical idea when really, I'm just looking for my own peace of mind.
Anyway, while in Hawaii, my fabulously gay associate and I stood at the bar and poked fun at the douchiest guy in the bar. Women were throwing themselves at him. I admit, he was one of the most attractive men I have ever seen, and under usual circumstances, I find this ultimately unattractive (shallow assholes). But, four Ketel Tonics later, he approaches me. And I did what any insecure, confused girl would do, I made fun of him. My dry humor and sarcasm were ill-diagnosed, as it actually turned him on and only made him pursue me more. Three more Ketel Tonics, a few shots and one heated political debate later, we were making out and headed to his place. We played all night long, me withholding actual sex so to maintain a false sense of modesty while he did all the work and loved every minute of it.
Waking up bleary-eyed, missing all my clothing and most of my dignity from the night before, I re-evaluated his sex appeal and was pleasantly surprised to learn he was indeed still hot. But as we spoke, I was shocked to see more and more of a personality that I would never be attracted to. He is a navy seal, sleeves of overly-masculine tattoos, a closet filled with Affliction, guns galore, heavy metal cd's, cheesy hot-chick posters... I started to become disgusted with the fact that I have joined the ranks and hooked up with a total frat boy. Shoot me.
The long drive home was breath-takingly beautiful. We spoke. I was wrong about him. For the first time ever, I was open minded about this "type" of person, and was genuinely shocked to learn of all his layers. He also explained he was shocked to be with a girl like me (big geeky glasses, quirky, strong, and just plain "different."). We transcended the typical Friends with Benefits ruleset and it was beyond orgasmic. Sunsets on the Hawaiian coast, private yachts, long scenic drives, shooting rifles illegally; it was a full-fledged affair that we both enjoyed and gained from. But he seemed to think it was more. I received an email from him, proclaiming his undying love for me. Yes he "couldn't believe he was falling in love with me, but it happened." I never reciprocated and when I left, he explained his heartbreak to me in a final letter.
This one still confuses me. I couldn't get treatment or a reaction like that from a guy that there's actually potential with if my life depended on it. If anything, I learned to be open about the kind of guy I can see myself with (which for now is, just simply, someone not here). Awesome. So far, so good!
Yes, I've had some sort of proclamation of love after less than a week of friendship from men in Pennsylvania, Germany, Hawaii, Chicago, Atlanta, Oklahoma, New Jersey and Boston... but no one will compare to New York's experience. The connection was magnetic, the attraction immediate and the desires unmanageable. But I cut it off. I'm here. He's there. Why try? I'm still trying to convince myself that one wasn't a mistake.
New York I love you, but you're bringing me down.
It's still never happened in L.A. And I'm from here! At this point, I'm thinking that setting up camp in different state for the sole purpose of a dick hunt is the way to go. Some call it skepticism... I call it being a bitter bitch sick of trying.
