“I’m sorry,” consoled Shannon, “I know you really liked him.”
“That isn’t really the worst of it,” I appreciate her kindness, but I didn’t know Ryan well enough to be feeling the way I was feeling—shortness of breath, scattered thoughts—but I also couldn’t shake it. “I think it was the promise Ryan held. We were both looking for the same things and it’s really hard to accept that he chose someone else.”
That morning while busy at work I had received the break-up text:
hey. i don’t know how 2 say it other than say it. I met someone this weekend im interested in pursuing a partner in crime thing with. So I need 2 cancel weds.
I wish I could say that I shot off some witty sort of retort right away, but it took a while before I answered:
Yes. Straightforward is always best.
And that was that. That is, except for the re-play button in my brain I kept pushing as I tried to figure out why her and not me.
And that was that. That is, except for the re-play button in my brain I kept pushing as I tried to figure out why her and not me.
So far I’m drawing a blank. The momentum was definitely there. According to my fancy new phone, we exchanged 118 texts since April 22. The dates were full of life, conversation, great food, and laughing. The sex was hot. We left it with plans to see each other again as soon as possible—his idea. So, what happened?
Adele was kind enough to come over for a glass of wine that night so I could commiserate. “It didn’t used to be this difficult,” I know I’m whining, and I know that she’s heard this before from me, but I’m incredulous about this most recent one. “I just wish there was this little something I could tweak and then they would choose me instead of the other women who come along. All the books keep telling me that it’s all about tweaking things just a bit.”
“Tweaking has nothing to do with it. It was easier then because you were in your 30s. It gets harder—a lot harder—each decade,” being my senior, Adele speaks from experience. “Every woman I know is going through this right now. The good news is that it’s not just you.”
Good news? How is that good news?
As I sip my wine deep in thought I have an idea, “If that’s the case, I suspect that every woman you know is strong, independent, educated . . .” Adele quietly shakes her head slightly. “. . . and they probably don’t take shit from anyone. Think about it, you and I both surround ourselves with really cool women—and for the most part none of them have mates.” The conversation continues, while we both acknowledge that all of the qualities we highly value as women (and as friends) are things we are not willing to let go of in the name of romance.
Besides, I have no problem meeting and attracting men, the problem lies in getting over the hump and into Girlfriendland. That charmed place where you don’t have to worry if he is going to call OR be available OR hang out with you on Sundays OR help you move that really heavy sofa. Girlfriendland has eluded me for over two years now despite the fact I’ve bought a map, compass, and GPS system all in the name of finding it. I think the reason Ryan’s stupid break-up text stings so much is because I felt I was finally on the right path.
In the meantime, those of us without a partner in crime will continue to strut around in our cat-suits and masks all on our own. We may not have someone waiting in the getaway car, but because of our smarts, strength, independence, and friendships—our treasures abound.
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