Do you ever want something so much that all you can seem to do is screw it up and then screw up every attempt at fixing things? You go on a job interview for a position you just know would be an ideal match. You wear your interview suit. Which has mysteriously shrunk a size while hanging in your wardrobe. You find yourself fidgeting to try to discretely remove the seam of your trousers from a delicate area below the belt. You get one of those bizarre muscle tics below your eye that nobody else can actually see but it feels like your entire face is contorting. You find yourself unfocused and distracted. Worse, you are convinced that your interviewer is sitting there thinking “If she would only just pull the damn seam out of her crotch and relax, this could go somewhere”.

You go to meet your new romantic interest’s parents. Leaning casually back to demonstrate your lack of nervousness, you knock a cup of coffee over on the arm of their white sofa. You grab the nearest thing to sop up the mess … not realising that the “nearest thing” is a 100-year old family heirloom lace doily. In your haste, you didn’t notice that sitting on top of said doily was an antique brass jar. Which contained the ashes of dear old great-great-somebody-or-other. You wonder where on earth all that dust and dirt suddenly came from. That same cloud of ashes that is joining the still-wet coffee stain on the white sofa, causing a veritable mud-pie to permanently soil the once pristine furniture.

I seem to have an unerring talent for screwing up in situations where something is important to me. Relationships, for example. Big surprise there, right? It’s true though. I’m great at being *in* a relationship. But, I’m not good at starting relationships. I either get over-eager and overbearing, or I get uptight and distant. I don’t recommend either of these techniques. I err towards “out of sight, out of mind” rather than “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. I constantly (and often unnecessarily) over-assert my independence and insist on my space. Until I want attention … and then rather than risk rejection by simply asking for attention, I whine and get clingy. Much like a kat, I want to be left alone when it’s convenient for me and showered with affection when I’m good and ready. I have a short attention span and I’m unofficially ADD. On dates I find myself nervously reciting a laundry list of my good points … and then my bad ones. Heaven forbid, wouldn’t want this person to think I’m too perfect. How’s about we just take this here spotlight and shine it on all my neuroses so you can get a good look-see. I get really irritated by men who see me as a sex object … and equally irritated by men who don’t seem to be blinded by the inner beauty that is me. I don’t know how to *not* want to look hot but resent when somebody reacts only to my physical appearance. But, of course, I still want compliments just like anybody else. I’m a very giving person, very nurturing, probably too much so at times. Some people take advantage of that. I tend to be rather overprotective to those close to me which can seem smothering at times. At other times I’m told it’s like having a soft blanket firmly wrapped around you. It’s just my Cancerian nature to want to possess and nurture. I have a huge romantic side that I rarely show … unless you have read some of my sappier poems. I find it hard to say “I Love You.” Although I do.

Once I’m actually past the skittish fight-or-flight behaviour I’m told I make a truly wonderful partner. The problem is getting me past that stage. Only a couple of men thus far in my life have had the determination and the strength to dig in their heels and refuse to give up on me or let me run away. I married one of them. I probably should have married the other one. You know who you are. I will definitely marry the next one. If there *is* a next one, because this type of man is a very rare gem indeed. Really, I’m worth the wait while I sort myself out and settle down. Even if I do drive you to the point of insanity a few times. I can just imagine my next boyfriend’s thoughts now … “If she would only just pull the damn seam out of her crotch and relax, this could really go somewhere”.

Current Mood: melancholy

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 27th, 2005 at 8:14 am and is filed under Humour, Reflective. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.