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"I am jaded."

Or so I thought.

Till the guy I was dating one Saturday afternoon asked me if I ever had an abortion.

I swear the beer almost shot out of my nose when he asked me that.
*mental scream: Dude! What the fuck?! What type of women have YOU been dating?!*
He was surprised with my bold statement, as I was surprised with his bolder question.

So there I sat, flabbergasted. My face was synonymous to that of a fish caught on a hook. “Okay mister, I’m not that hardcore. Nor will I ever be.”

Mr. Yes-There-Is-Such-Thing-As-A-Stupid-Question laughed at my reaction, placed a hand on my knee and started asking why I thought of myself that way.

I answered with a shrug, and he just gave me the look a father would give his 7-year old daughter for wearing red lipstick and fishnet stockings.

My ears started tuning out his words subconsciously as my thought process shifted from “My drink needs more ice” to the question: “Am I really emotionally worn-out?”

Nothing surprises me anymore. There are too many ironies in life, especially when it comes to love and relationships. Alanis Morissette shiz like “You meet the man of your dreams and he introduces you to his wife” or some ka-ek-ekan like that…

Having come from a series of different relationships, all different in color and all leaving me somewhat scarred in their own ways; I’ve come to realize certain things: Men cheat left and right. Men are after only one thing. Philandering men are macho, while "curious" women are perceived as whores. Be fragile with the male ego or the Playboy subscription number replaces yours. Marriage is “relatively” over by the second year. The cynical list goes on and on; and having tons of male friends while living in an Asian country didn't really help much.

God knows how much I wish I didn’t think this way. Those who have known me for years will understand the shit I’ve been through. Many people will easily point out that I’ve just been dating the wrong men. Pfft! Whatever. All I know is, I can’t help but think the way I do. That light coming from the end of a tunnel's actually a train, people.

So as a defense mechanism, *insert muscle flexing action* I’ve developed the habit of blocking out optimistic thoughts with anticipation for the worst. “He’s cute!” (…and has a psycho-ex’s number on his caller I.D.), “He’s smart! (…and will be an ass when you try to give him directions when you two get lost), “He’s sweet! (...and we both know it’s only going to last till the third month.)

I always made room for doubt, even when the moment spent with another person seemed almost perfect. (Yes, there are some awesome guys who manage to slip under the radar!) Generally, I could be in the middle of getting swept off my feet – (a.k.a. witty repartee with a funny guy sitting across from me) – and I would be thinking of every single stupid reason why it wouldn’t work out between us. (*gasp* He doesn’t own a pink shirt?!)

Yes. It sucks.
I suck.
I will be modest enough to admit that.

But until I find a compelling reason to make me believe otherwise, I’ll keep my shades on and laugh along with life’s ironies...


dennis hodgson said...

Did I read right? You put ice in beer? Are you serious?

ążŘĕЄŋ said...

you write well..and made me laugh

Elly said...

@ Dennis : Indeed you have. Culture difference, perhaps. We Filipinos love beer served below zero... or with ice.

@ Azreen : (did I get that right? LOL.) Thank you... :)

Charlene said...

Makes me glad I am married (going on 13 yrs string) and don't have to be on the dating scene. That said, the best advice I ever got was "It's not just about finding the right person, it's about being the right person."

Thanks for visiting my Balance Beam! Cheers!

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Optimistically Disenchanted | TNB