They say making a relationship or marriage last is one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. I think the everyday battles I have in my own head are the fiercest I’ll ever fight. A vicious fight with a boyfriend? Peanuts. Plates flying, glass breaking? Big deal. At least you’ve got a smart person who can be sensible and help you with your logic. When it’s just you, you can debate any and every angle and get no where.
That’s where I am right now. Welcome to no where.
There’s the athletic intellectual–Berkeley PhD and a national ultimate frisbee champion–who thinks he’s a lot cooler than he really is. He calls, texts, emails regularly. He keeps in touch, but never makes plans. In fact, we’ve never gone on a proper date. We’ve only had drinks! He catches me at the last minute then insists, “Well, let’s hang out after you’re done with dinner and drinks with your friends.” No! I want my fucking dinner date and I want you to pay the bill. Is that too much to ask? Is he worth it?
Then there’s the charmer who spares no expense. Your wish is my command. You have a great time. He picks you up and drops you off. He opens doors, takes your arm, hangs up your coat. He’s a gentleman through and through. He’s smart, hot, funny, intellectual. And you rarely hear from him. Is he worth it?
There’s the sweetheart who can’t stop stuttering and gets nervous when you look his way. You’re embarrassed for him. Is he worth it?
There’s the overzealous 40-year-old divorcee who hasn’t figured out how to play cool. Two emails, a phone call, an immediate text after the voicemail message ‘you are such a cutie,’ a friend request on Facebook, then two more emails–all over the course of 18 hours. Is he worth it?
And all along I’m thinking, I am worth it. I am worth it. I don’t need the cheap PhD or the rich playboy or any of the ‘tweeners who fall within the spectrum of cheap to generous, lame to cool, ugly to hot, short to tall, mute to verbose. I don’t need any of these guys. I am perfectly happy typing away on my MacBook, blogging about how funny this all is. But really is it all that funny?
Is he worth it? Is he worth a chance? A real, genuine chance.
Am I worth it? Can I take a chance on love when it’s so easy to retreat to the voices in my head.
What am I worth? Am I worth it? Am I worth so much that it’s better to be alone?
So far, so good?