Probably too personal

In high school, I was the friend of the Pretty One, the hunch-backed girl with acne and a sharp tongue, acid that I honed as a way of deflecting rejection.  I was funny and I could write a mean essay, but neither of those things warranted the urge for romance in any young man.  Those awkward years between fifteen and twenty were spent listlessly yearning for male acceptance, but it was a quiet longing.  You can't properly miss what you've never really had.

When I was twenty, something shifted.  I got hired at a hot new restaurant in my city: the Uniform was a miniscule pleated black skirt, high heels and a tight vest.  There were thirty of us hired, out of hundreds of applicants, and it shot my confidence to new levels.  I stood straight, learned that strongbow provoked a confidence I'd never had, and my chicken legs suddenly grew curves, probably the result of late-night nachos and after-shift beers with swaggering bartenders who didn't realize that I was Just the Funny One.

Once the male attention started flowing, it was like a gorgeous drug I'd never tasted.  I had handsome young men bringing me flowers, calling me at strange hours, buying me things I had not asked for.  I sucked up the attention in behemoth proportions, but  I quickly learned that I'm a serial monogamist at heart. Rather than play the field, I dated one at a time.  There was Jae, of course, my first grown up love, with devilish eyes and an alluring small space between the front teeth of his huge smile.  There was Les after that, then Chris, then Dale, then back to Jae.  When I met N's father, I was twenty-eight, and I had not been single for more than two days since the age of twenty.

I blogged when I met R, at the time my Tall blog was still young and I had maybe three or four readers.  I wrote that there was something familiar in his doe eyes, something that stirred forgotten hope deep inside me: there was a quality about him that made me know he would be in my life forever.  That was all true, but it hardly panned out in the way I expected.

It's been over a year since R left the home we shared.  The night is etched permnanently in the glass of my soul: our sleeping baby upstairs while wind and snow howled outside, a shared, tear-streaked acknowledgment that this was over. 

I've been OK.  I've plunged myself into work, the daily intricacies of N's emotions and our relationship in the world.  I've looked deep inside and understood that I played a big part in the demise of the most important relationship I've ever had.  I am cynical, I am difficult, I am often moody and harsh.  My weapons are my words and I can cut holes in hearts, and I did just that: aiming low, frequently, moodily, shittily.  I would give anything to take them back.

The truth is I was single for almost a year when R was still living with us: he wasn't interested in me, physically or mentally, and I can't really blame him.  But since he's left I've had little desire for another man: I don't trust my instincts, I don't know if I'm capable of loving or being loved on a permanent basis by anyone other than my son.   Because of this, it's been surprisingly easy to forget about the goodness of males: rough fingers, intoxicating necks, orange band shirts over long sleeved t-shirts.  Simple appreciation, a glance that brings shivers.  I'd forgotten the spark of sensation that pure appreciation provokes, I forgot what I've been missing.  And now, despite my doubt and my mistrust and my overall unease with myself as a woman -- I want more.  The shred of hope sparked by the small chance of an undying, enduring love is even stronger than the threat of crippling heartbreak, all over again.

***

Things we did this weekend:

1) Embarked on a mud-laced amble through the forest.  The trail is windy and shaded by towering green firs, N fell twice and by the time we emerged at the marina on the other side, we were both covered in filth.  We ate hot donuts and drank chai tea and N charmed the hell out of patrons of our small destination cafe by inquiring whether they liked cucumbers.
2) Played completely awkward ball hockey.  I was the only woman, apparently Toddler Ball Hockey is a Dad sport, and I careened on wobbly peg-legs while N rocketed around like an out-of-control blonde roadrunner.
3) Made pancakes with celestial cream -- omg.  I thought I might lose weight with my new diet, but in fact I think I shall gain it.

***

What you can't see in this picture: that N's entire torso and pants are covered in writhing, chocolate-y West Coast Winter Mud.  Also, he is wearing a Calgary Flames toque, furnished by his Father, which is sacrilege in these parts.  Walking up to the cafe after throwing rocks in the ocean, three separate people murmered," Cute little guy, gotta do something about that toque, though." 

Unspeakably awkwardly rendered floor hockey, picture courtesy my Mother.

You know, if this is the only true love I'll have from this day forward, I'm really pretty lucky anyway.

Comments

[honeybecke]

oh yes, go after it. you have a courageous heart!
i am positively giddy for you. :)

[Sarah]

Looking into my own sons eyes I can truly say that I will never love a man or anyone else as much or as truly and deeply as I love him.

You truly are lucky! Your son is beautiful.

[Thursday]

In the last year that I lived with my ex partner, I thought it was All His Fault - it was only after I left that I too realised how much input I'd had into the downfall of our relationship. I was not expecting that. Nonetheless, I can also see that we were not right for each other or rather, he was not right for me. I thought I'd never want nor feel the wanton desire for another man again nor feel the need to wax my legs, cheesegrate my feet or wear delicious underwear. I wasn't expecting this either.

[sweetsalty kate]

Ermm... the cynical, the difficult, all that? I'm not buying it. Accountabilty and reflection are good things, learning tools.

But all I need to be assured of the opposite is your words. You're opinionated, and funny, and adventurous and brave and just sparkling all over.

You really, really are. Don't let the disappointment of what happened with R rub off as any degree of unworthiness on you.

You're not hoping to find someone who can tolerate your shortfalls. You're in need of someone who can keep up with you, be your match. And I know it's easy for me to say so from here, from the peanut gallery - but you will. I just know you will.

[Niki P.]

Wow, I could have written that paragraph. My mood swings are legendary and it's not all his fault. He wants to try again and I am afraid I will ruin it again. He makes me feel insecure which is MY issue not his. Why would he want to try again??

I have sons and they are the most important loves of my life. I am good.

[heathercoo]

I've never commented before but I just need to say that you could have been explaining my life in those paragraphs, the only difference being I don't have a child to know that will love me no matter what.

I am 6'2" and I will turn 25 tomorrow but your life and my life could be the same only change the names. Oh and the vegan part. haha.

[jason]

The lucky one will be the man that stumbles into yours and Nolan's life and falls deeply and hopelessly in love with the spectatular smart sexy and silly woman that you have become.

If, of course, you let him.

J.

[Chookooloonks]

Damn, Jason, I think I love you.

And Kristin? What he said.

[Jenna]

Dude, I love Jason too.

It must be hard and great all at once to remember why a relationship with a man can be worth the potential heartbreak.

I'm not saying a son's love ain't grand but it doesn't have to be a competition. There's room for heart-bursting mommy love as well as spine tingling man love!

[gina in sc]

jason? are you the one for K? lol

you and nolan take amazing pictures.. so beautiful you two.

[SleepyNita]

I currently have a bit of a self-distruct thing going on in my relationship right now. So many things could be better - and even though I think he is at fault for a lot of it (not all of it) I find myself being the one giving up some days. Other days I look back and feel like I am the worlds biggest bitch.
Ugh.

I love my son so much and feel so darn lucky for that too.

[JAB]

Wonderful picture of you and Nolan! You can feel the love.

[TheSpectrum]

My goodness. I am just a bit younger than you and I don't have a son. But I too was Just The Funny One until suddenly I wasn't and I went from man to man to man. And now, I am also alone. And vegan.

And I have also forgotten what the point of it all is, what I've been missing. You articulate it so well. What I mean to say is...

Can I borrow your son?

Ah, I'm kidding.

(Not really.)

I love the way you write,
~Laura

[S.E.]

Nolan is such a lucky kid. By that hug, I think he realizes it too.

[leenie]

it's so strange how quick the body remembers spark and light and quick. so glad you're remembering, and hoping.

[superblondgirl]

I used to be the same way - not the pretty girl, and then when I got pretty (read: lost weight), I was always with a guy, whether he was a real "boyfriend" or just some dude who thought I was hot. I used it to validate myself for a long time.

Son-love is way better, I think, though my husband is pretty awesome, too.