In general, women are emo-kids in adult wrappers.  At least I am, and I know alot of other women (my age, younger and older) that are the same way. 

Everybody has baggage.  By the time you make it into your mid-30’s, if you don’t have baggage, you must not have been doing a very good job at having a life.  Many folks, men and women, by the mid-30’s have been married, had children and (in many cases) suffered through an ugly divorce or split with a significant other.

I for one have dished out my fair share (if not much, much more) of questions as to whether my significant other really loves me.  I’ve tried to push him away several times, because it’s easier to let go and hurt a little than to really fall in love and get hurt ALOT in the end.

 Why did I hit him with the ever present question, “Do you love me?”  “Why do you love me?”????

Because I had a life, a past.  And the experience wasn’t all good.  Not that my life was stricken with hardship on a constant basis, but I was married to a man who had no clue about anything but drugs and video games.   Yes, I chose to stay in it a lot longer than was advised.  Yes, I could have packed up and left.  But, I married him, and I was hellbent to stick with it or die.  He was nice to me when he wanted something from me.  Otherwise, he said little and did even less.

Then I grew up.  I realized it wasn’t healthy and I had to get out.  So, I got out.   But I found out I had trust issues when I finally jumped.  My significant other has NEVER done the first thing to make me think he’s going to hurt or leave me.  He has never done anything but open doors for me and treated me like I am his equal.

Could I accept that?  Simply put, no. 

I ass-u-me (d) that there was no man out there that is genuine.  There was no man out there that could really love me, for rowdy old me.  There was no man out there that really would ask how my day went just because he wanted to share a few minutes together after work.  ETC, ETC, ETC…..  the list could go on forever.

A woman wants to be happy with a man.  Companionship, intimacy… yes, please.  But sometimes getting her to accept that not all men are the same is a real challenge.  Even if she knows it’s true.  Her past may be a horrible, scary monster that must be slayed before she can go on.  It can be done if there is room to work on these things in the relationship.  If not, it’s doomed, go on.

Men can carry the same baggage, but due to ego and other manly things, it may not be as apparent.

     Ok, I’ve been getting a lot of “weird” comment emails lately, many from women asking bizarre questions about dating, relationships, sex and men in general.  I’ve been trying to decide whether or not to answer them, because quite honestly, some of the questions are pretty uncomfortable.

     I got an e-mail from an ex (like the majority of mine, we’re still friends, or try to be, at times) the other day, talking about her issues with a guy she’s been seeing.  I realized that sometimes it’s difficult to separate the person you know from the person she is now, even it’s been quite a while, but I tried.
     I asked a few friends, “Hey, was this too mean?” and let them read my response.  After I’d already fired it off, of course.

     A few of my female friends adamantly declared, “You should blog that!”

     So … here we go…

     From e-mail:

From: Confused
Date: August 8th, 2007 at 8:07AM

It’s definitely wrong to expect any man to make things better.  That’s something I have to come to terms and deal with … hopefully learn from and move on.  Except …..

You meet a man who’s kind, interesting, humorous and exhibits all these great characteristics. He puts no heavy pressure on you.  You *do* appreciate the effort he’s putting into the relationship and let him know that. 

But then after a while, he gets comfortable/complacent and changes.  The wine and dine/ conversation changes to the beer/ belching/ farting/ cursing and eventually belitting.  Why????  Is it something I caused or was there a sign I should have noticed in the beginning??  In any case, at that point a woman can’t be expected to accept that.

I really don’t think I overanalyze.  I wasn’t expecting anything… It started as  spending time with a friend, and developed into a relationship which I didn’t push at all.

I don’t think I’ve ever asked “tell me you love me”.  If I felt the need to do that, either I’d be insecure in the relationship or in a situation like I was with Mr. Slimebag (I already knew the answer).

You know, I just realized that I’m more upset with being blindsighted than I am with him.  And maybe I’m overthinking a bit because I want to understand why guys do that?

What do guys want???

     Ok, typical thing, right?  A woman breaks up with a guy she’s been seeing, then starts the whole self-doubt and confusion bit…
     But is it ever really that simple?

     There are always two sides to a story… And honestly, in most cases, only half of it makes sense to a guy.

     In cases where ”relationships” are going well, sometimes there’s a sudden, gigantic detour into “crazy,” leaving a guy going, “What the f$&* just happened?”
     To me, it’s always ironic, in those situations, when women will come back filled with self-doubt, questioning everything from the relationship to themselves, when that was exactly what caused the diversion to begin with.

     And I’m not saying it’s “always” like that, either… It’s definitely a “sometimes” thing.  It’s just an ironic situation that happens to have been on my mind for about six months.
     So I responded, perhaps a little harshly, and with gigantic generalizations…

     I’ll tell you what guys want … We want someone to be with, to be happy with… Easy … do you really think it’s any more?

     You certainly do the dating persona … showing your best, until you become yourself … I guess you think it’s easier to be yourself once you get to know someone, know that they’re there. 
     I’ve just always been me… nothing more, nothing less.

     You always overanalyze things…

     Your version of “Tell me you love me” is passive-aggressive. “I’m starting to have feelings for you,” “I think about you all the time,” “Would you ever get married again?” ”I need you,” ”You’re like a drug,” ”You’re the only person I can trust,” ”I’ve never felt this way before…”
     Those are all pushing towards getting him tell you how he feels.
     Then you get the, “I love you,” which is a hard thing for a guy to admit anyway, and your interest subsides. “You’re obsessive.” “You want more than I want.” “I can’t handle being responsible for your happiness.”
     You can’t be happy … You have to keep asking questions, pushing buttons, and trying to screw things up.

     For guys, it’s different.

     We find a woman — she’s beautiful, she’s demure — and she seems to have her head and her heart in the right place. All wrapped up in a nice little package of sweet and sexy, confident and secure.
     We want be strong for her, so the first thing she does is start showing her emotional side and strokes our ego by appealing to our protective nature.  Then she gets distant as she wrestles with the fact that “I can take care of myself,” ”I don’t need anyone else” and starts to pull away.
     Things start to break down.  The more she wrestles with herself, the further away she goes, and the more frustrated we get.  We can only get to know her as much as she’ll show us… And she’s the same woman, but now she’s upset all the time… 
     We keep trying and trying to be strong… but the more she gets upset about every little thing that comes along, the more she pulls away, the harder we try to be there, to make her happy… to help… to fix it…
     And she resents it, begins spouting the typical, “You always want to fix everything!” “Some problems you just can’t fix!” garbage, because she’s terrified to think that someone might be able to look through all her crap and baggage and actually give a damn about her.

     And it’s frustrating as f$&*.

     Somewhere along the line, we get desperate, and start attempting last ditch efforts and ultimatums.  The more she’s around, the more she begins to see our usual nature, along with a new “manic” that we’ve gained from trying to deal with her moods…
     Pretty soon, nothing works.  Every single damn thing we do is an excuse for why, “This isn’t going to work,” regardless of the fact that we never would’ve been like that had she not been so f$&*king fatalistic…

     Okay … sorry … never mind.

     I don’t know what guys want…  *smirk*

     So I asked a few other female friends for input…

     “Oh my God!  That was raw, but not harsh!  Damn, you really understand women!”
     “How can you know all of that?  There’s so much of me in there… That reflects a great understanding of women far beyond anything I’ve ever seen from a man!”
     “Exactly!  Why don’t other guys understand that?”
     “You are brilliant as ever!  You pegged us!”
     “No, you weren’t mean.  You were honest.  You really know women!  Thank you!”

     So, basically, I’m told that I understand women… that I know how they think… and understand why they do things… but hey, if that’s true, then why the Hell do I keep getting screwed over?

     Sorry, but if that shows “great understanding” on my part, then the Universe really is stacked against us…

     Minding my own business (putting the last minute touches on a Interworx backup script), when I get another pathetic e-mail, complete with personal attacks:

From: “Michael aka Capt. Howdy”
Date: August 3rd, 2007 7:13PM EDT 

i was interested in [HerNameRemovedToSaveEmbarrassment] but after see that she went out with u i relise how bad her taste in men is. i mean what exactly does athletic mean thses days? and are women really attracted to receding hairlines? and 2 think i used to like older women. i mean you’ve got bi written all over you. your really in touch arnt ya? if i ran into you on the street id make sure to watch my asshole. you kinda look like a craked out tony soprano. well was fun messin with ya, and isnt it a shame u cant do anything abut what i just said. lol chump

     Wow.  The only reason you’d have to “make sure to watch” your “asshole” is because your head’s planted so firmly up it.  What else could you possibly see from that position, besides whatever you didn’t chew up quite well enough the night before?

     It really shows superior bravery — hiding behind a monitor, keyboard and a fake name — spouting off that kind of trash because I happened to go out with someone you were interested in, doesn’t it?  Ever think maybe the reason she didn’t out with you is because you’re a complete and total asshat?

     I lead a public life, “chump.”  I actually go out most nights, I meet women, I speak to them, and sometimes — Ooooh, ahhh!  ;-)  I’m guessing you don’t get the chance often… I mean, it’s kinda hard when you’re sitting at home stroking your keys… *cough*

     And really, asshat … You misspelled “seeing,” “you,” “realize,” “these,” “to,” “aren’t,” “I’d,” “cracked” and “messin’/messing.”  
     Get past the second grade much?
     They usually teach you what SHIFT key is for after the third…

     I do wonder who I‘ve pissed off to deserve all of this…  But hey, I’m on the way out the door, anyway, so who gives a damn, right?  *grin*

     More fuel … Bring it on. 

     My tires were less than a month old.

     The problem was covered under warranty, despite being maliciously vandalized.  ;-)  So basically, the only thing that I lost was a little sweat in putting the spare on.

     Busy day, too… I’ve done three quick-and-dirty onsites (and had the tire fixed between the last two — took them all of ten minutes), and I’m actually managing to fix these bloody notebooks faster than they’re coming in the door for a change.  Apparently, I’m one of the few people in town who can actually repair notebooks — which is ironic, since I hate them as much as I do.
     But, it gives me a sense of accomplishment to complete things, and properly… and I admit, even a bit of smug sense of satisfaction to have fixed whatever hardware or software problem there was after it’s been sent back to the manufacturer for warranty repair over and over and over and…

     And… Nah, nevermind.  More good stuff I won’t talk about… Maybe later.  *grin*

     Life kicks ass! 

     “Hi, I’m Mark.  Can I borrow your breasts for a few hours?  I’ll give ‘em back….”
     *blank look*  “Are you serious?”
     “Unless you wanna let me hold ‘em for a while…”
     *laughter*  “If I could get rid of them for a few hours, I’d be so happy… I’m actually getting tired of carrying them around!”
     “So I can hold ‘em for a while?”  *grin*
     “Ready when you are…” *smile*

     Any questions? 

     Have a good weekend. 

     Those interested in a little late night mischief should certainly check out New Zealand’s #1 Online Dating Site…

     Saturday night, I realized something pretty important.  I’ve always said, I work hard, and play harder.  I try and balance all of my work stress and just have a good time when I’m not working.  As out of balance as things have been for the last three and half weeks, it’s no wonder I got a little moody.
     After pretty much getting as pissed off as I can get (which wasn’t that bad by many peoples’ standards — I try and keep my composure these days), I decided, “Life’s too friggin’ short for this crap.”

     Of course, by 10:30PM Saturday night, my mood had much improved thanks, in small part, to …

     … v2.0 (Now with Blonde Hair and a Perky, Bubbly Personality!).
     As did Sunday night’s entertainment: a fun young woman who seems to share a lot of my rather eccentric hobbies & tastes.  Who knew?

     You fall off, ya jump back on the horse.

     [ I said HORSE, Mushy... Jeez! ]

     All in all, the weekend made even this morning’s 5AM grind and subsequent Stress Hell seem not all that bad…

     Balance is a wonderful thing. 

Tip: Thanks, CP, D, N, J & C.  You girls really helped me outta my funk.  And, of course, Zacque, Julie and Diva for putting up with me through it.

     It’s been a day for stupidity.  Ex’s from all over the globe have psychicly tuned into the fact that I don’t feel very good today.  Phone calls, e-mails, text messages have innundated me since 4AM.  I don’t drunk dial, so listening to the voicemails and reading messages this afternoon has been surprisingly humorous, in an ironic and futile sort of way.

     “You’ve got some serious mental issues,” came across the screen from someone who admittedly has so many issues, so much hurt and pain from past relationships, that she just can’t believe anyone might give a damn about her.  Amazing.

     The only things I’ve gotten, outta loving certain women more than anything else in the world, was a lot of abuse, ridiculous accusations of conspiracy and pain like nothing else.
     Oh, and a drinking problem while trying to deal with it all.

     Today has really made me take note of something I never noticed before.  That’s three women in my life who’ve meant more to me than anything else in world, and they’ve meant more and more each time.  There were no cataclysmic events to bring us together, no circumstances which made for inseperable bonds; they just happened.  They happened at times when I was complacent, together, content and independent.
     But as time drug on, each of them proved themselves to be little more than repressed, emotionally distant and abusive to a ridiculous degree.  Gives a whole new meaning to, “Nice guys finish last.”

     Seriously, all the migraines, bullets, knives, skinheads, lawyers, quack doctors and random assholes in the world couldn’t take me down.  But three women could get through every damned defense I’d built up over the years, and tear fleshy chunks out of my heart as a sacrifice to their “independence.”

     The circle is now complete … The Unholy Trinity is formed … 
     The Mother, the Daughter-in-Law and the Unholy Anagram.
     I never had a good relationship with my mother.  It’s really making me think that maybe there is something to all that Freudian bullshit.  And maybe she was right … for all the love shown to the Unholy Trinity, maybe I really am the Antichrist, like she said.

     So maybe I do have some “serious mental issues” … now … now that I’ve been used, abused and discarded like a three-cycle dryer sheet … cuz I’ve certainly been through the wash a few times with all of them.

     Remember that old Police tune?

The sky turned to black
Would he ever come back?
They would climb a high dune
They would pray to the moon
But he’d never return
So the sisters would burn
As their eyes searched the land
With their cups still full of sand…

     I’ve heard the same line so many times, “It’s not you, it’s me.”  I’ve heard more than that … way more … enough to make many men feel they were God … and yet …

     And yet …

     …

     .

     *shrug*

     I don’t …

It’s funny to me when someone who you thought of as a friend will put money in front of friendship. Personally, I think that this leads you down the road to a very crappy worldview. But it is somewhat interesting to see how people will act over the essence of probable money. It can turn pseudo-friend into worse that foe; former lovers into insult slinging buffoons or business partners into vicious tax collectors. Unfortunately for me this is an overly large let down. For love of God, you would think that the loss of a loved or the end of ties one would cause all parties involved to want to remember the happy memories of the passed. Never would it drive a wedge between friends or even those you considered almost like family.

Why the reason for the sudden cutting of ties? Simply because one person received something from a loved one that was not a member of his or her biological family. This very seldom thing occurs when debt that should have vanished and be non-existent or sheer greed takes over the body. Now a person in this situation must deal with the repercussions of their own poor decision in order to fulfill a desperate need for attention. It is as if they never got enough time, money, or caring sentiments from anyone. (Which a majority of the other people involved know to be false.)

Second example, the insult slinging buffoon, however is also very similar in behavior to the scum sucking relative. He or she will differ in that during the separation process, he or she will sling names at your friends, family, and your own person. I for instance have become a “vindictive, selfish, unloving, unmotivated, immoral, c*#$sucking a$$hole.”

If I had not realized that this was coming from an insensitive, psychopathic, and lying cesspool of a person I would be taken aback.  I hate when a lover-ship sours like a nice white wine. At some point you never get what you invested. Nor do you come anywhere near close to where you started and it sucks the big one. By that point, the only thing unknown about the relationship is how long with the other party keep pestering you?

The worst candidate for pestering you is the business partner when that relationship goes sour. They are slightly more annoying since more of your personal finances tend to be tied into your business. In the same token there is fortunately more distance sometime since it is a legal partnership and can be broken with the assistance of a fabulous mediator. (Wonderful counselor, the prince of peace… well okay, maybe it’s not quite such a divine intervention, it just seems that way sometimes.)

Generally, the repercussions with any of these can (with my involved will,) end on a positive note. In the end the people who irritate or criticize me with no ground to stand on usually go away and leave me be. They quit calling, don’t e-mail, or write letters. Those who choose to drag it out, cause a scene, and raise a ruckus should seek professional help. Why not? Lord knows I will if I fall victim to dealing with any of these unpleasantries.