Disappointed Diva

So, I did it again, Singletons and Marrieds.  I chased my heart and got burned.  And now I need your help.

I owe you an explanation.  My lack of quality posts (or even crappy posts for that matter), especially over the last six months, is due completely to the fact that I thought I was finally doing things right in the real world.  I've now spent most of my thirtieth year on this planet doing the detailed and dangerous dance between being candid and risky, reserved and patient, honest and considerate, and hopeful and trusting.  And none of it worked.  I thought maybe, just maybe, I had finally gotten it down pat.  I was forthright with my feelings and spent a long time hopeful that the lack of a rejection from someone I thought would be considerate enough to give it without delay meant my actions were worthwhile and potentially encouraged.  I did everything I thought I needed to do to naturally move into something fantastic... and ended up with quite the reverse of that.  I tried diligently to prove that I was willing to at least try.  But, he was not.  And that is that.

Mostly, I'm disappointed in myself.  I should have seen it coming.  Inside Petty Melanie hopes that I'm his "one that got away." Time will tell, I guess.  But, sitting here today, the only part of that statement that is reality is "away."  So, moving on is not an option, it's a must.  I've spent too much of my life watching days, weeks, months, years fly by pining away for someone who didn't give me a second thought.  So, the lesson I'm learning from this disappointment is that, although I did much better this time of not assuming that someone knew how I felt about them and being candid with my emotions and expectations in my own defense, I have to stop being the pursuer.  I've said it countless times, but I have to stick to it.  I spent six months doing most of the work sustaining our friendship/low-grade-courtship and that should have been a giant red flag.  I'm going to write this next statement on my mirror and repeat it to myself daily:

If someone isn't willing to do whatever it takes to spend time with me in whatever form he can get it, he is not worth it.  Not worth my time, my tears, my talents, my joy or my glowing personality.

Because I think I'm pretty awesome.  I'd want to spend time with me all the time.  Well, most of the time.  I'm not perfect around the clock.  You should see me when I first wake up... whew.  Hot, aggravated, moody mess.  Moving on...

So, my hopefully still interested readers, I'm back on the market.  In hot and heavy pursuit of The One.  I'm done with Time Wasters, Space Fillers, Dinner Buyers, Stand-by Dates, and Male Friends Who I Really Want to Date  (dear God, I have had plenty of that, thank you).  I have two months and ten days until my 31st birthday and have no yet succeeded in my New Year's Resolution.  And I'm getting sexier by the day (his even-bigger loss...  read more about my journey to sexiness on my new blog, "Breaking Up with the Couch.").  I need your help.  A coworker jokingly suggested that I try matchmaking at a local company here in Atlanta.  Anyone ever tried one of those?  I must confess, I immediately mentally jump to "The Millionaire Matchmaker" and it makes me feel nauseous.  I loath that woman.  But the ladies on this sight at least know the correct way to apply eyeshadow, which is a major component of successful dating, in my opinion.  Check them out here.   Or... brace for it.  I've been seriously considering rejoining (gasp) eHarmony.

Urgh.  I know.  But, it's their damn commercials!  The cute, scruffy looking guy, hands in his pockets, nervously rocking from foot to foot... so excited about his upcoming date, bashing the other dating sites for having to sift through thousands of profiles to find someone who has probably received thousands of emails that day.  I know...  I've been there.  The whole thing sucks.  But, I need to bounce back.  I need to take a page out of my own book and throw, no, hurdle myself back out there.  I've got so much to offer and want to share all the wonders of the world with someone who is still excited about that concept and not bitterly sitting in a coffee shop by themselves in front of a laptop (like I am right now).

So, do I jump back in to online dating, give the matchmaking thing a shot or hope that one of you know an amazing, eligible bachelor in the Atlanta area (or elsewhere) that doesn't think OTP is long distance (blatant Atlanta reference... "outside the perimeter" is often considered "no man's land.")?  I'm bound and determined to go on that real date before my birthday.  Help.

Know When to Hold 'Em, Know When to Fold 'Em

One thing I've come to realize that happens as a result of a self-imposed, almost year-long online dating (again, who am I kidding? Dating, in general, is a better way of phrasing that, but I'd like to keep at least a semblance of dignity.) hiatus is a lot of free time for reflection.  Not having to juggle jokers with bad screennames and worse profiles who desire nothing more than to take up permanent residence in Text Land leaves one with plenty of spare moments for pondering and evaluation.  And believe me...  I've been thinking.  Writing, not so much.  But, thinking, yes.  Danger zone.

So, as my ever-faithful readers (if you are still there considering the ridiculous gaps between posts and even more inexcusable lapses in my own original material...fingers crossed anyone is actually reading this), you get the extreme pleasure of being the beneficiaries of said ponderings and considerations and helping me unravel the unending streams of consciousness that seem to only complicate my already over-analytical thought processes. 

During my year of nothing year of loneliness hiatus since last October, I've tried dilligently to focus on meeting people in what I refer to as "the real world."  Online dating, regardless of how successful your endeavors may be, just seems so... well, not real world... to me at least.  "The Real World" consists of those standard meeting opportunities, like bars (blah), coffee shops (only happens in the movies), being introduced to each other by a mutual friend (potentially dangerous) or playing 'damsel in distress' at a hardware store (I have yet to attempt this one, but I'll keep you posted.).  Judge me if you will, but I still think that most people would prefer to meet their significant other in one of these more traditional ways.  Online dating is great (did I really just say that?!), and I know it works on ocassion (except for yours truly, the world-reknowned Serial First Dater), but it's still my Plan B.  At this point. 

So, this desire to focus on men in "the real world" got me thinking about my approach and style when it comes to interacting and building relationships with the male species.  I think we've talked about this before, but I'll explain for the newbies.  Throughout my entire adolescent and adult life, the men that I've been most attracted to have started out as my friends.  And eventually, their charm, wit, and all around fabulousness caught the attention of my heart (and/or my eyes... and... I'll leave it at that.) and I was smitten.  Years ago (like, we were 12), a friend with whom I am still extremely close and who maintains this sentiment to this day, told me that she was sure I would end up marrying someone who was my best friend first.  And I knew instantly that she was probably right.  I feel like I have to have that foundation of friendship first.  I don't want to build a relationship on physical attraction and then try to create an emotional bond and connectivity after the fact.  And I'm not sure that I want our first date to technically also be the first time I ever lay eyes on the guy either.  At 30, I don't want to jump into a dating situation without knowing some non-dating background on the person first.  What if I find out he buries kittens up to their necks in his backyard for giggles on Saturday afternoons after we've been dating for months?  Or something as dreadful as (dear God) he's not a Braves fan??! (Gasp in terror.)  Time wasters, people.  And this girl and her biological clock cannot withstand time wasters. 

The problem here is that most of the men who have become the object of my affection following months or even years of friendship don't seem to have such an easy time turning the Friendship Boat around to head upstream toward Coupledom.  More often than I'd like to share, I get the "I don't want to ruin our friendship" line.  Here's my question to you, Singletons and Marrieds:  When is the potential for a fantastic relationship worth the risk of losing the friendship?

Granted, just because I think we'd make a wonderful couple and have stunningly beautiful babies doesn't mean that he (hypothetical man) necessarily agrees with me, and I realize that the "ruin our friendship" line could be total bull crap and really translate as "I'm not interested in dating you, but don't want to hurt your feelings."  Lame.  I'm grown. I can handle it.  Interesting men are like a good pair of shoes.  Potentially hard to find, sad to see go when they're worn out and appreciate them for their beauty and the great times we shared together, but the shoe store is right down the street and probably having a sale.  I'll get over it when I find another pair of black patent leather heels that make my calves look awesome.  But, I digress. 

Is it possible for both people to simultaneously think that the friendship is worth risking for the potential of an amazing relationship or does it require one person convincing the other to give it a shot?  And, if you're good enough friends to begin with and things go south relationship-wise, shouldn't that make for a softer crash landing?  Maybe I'm naive and inexperienced.  So, you tell me.  What would it take for you to risk a friendship for a romantic relationship?  What components would have to be present for you to say "I see your friendship and raise you one potential fairytale romance"?  Because to me, if I think you're wonderful, it's worth putting all my chips in.  I can't think of anything that would stop me from grabbing the chance and playing my hand.  I know it's a gamble, but having the opportunity to fall in love with my best friend is one I'm willing to take. 

Anxiously awaiting your commentary...