HERE'S WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME

During my freshman and half my sophomore years of college, I dated a very nice, upstanding accounting major. Long distance. He was tall, sweet, charming, cute, smart, and treated me exceptionally well.

We'll call him Marc. Because that's his name.

Marc and I met a week after I graduated high school at my best friend's graduation party (oh dear God, that sounds vaguely familiar). He was my second boyfriend ever in the history of my life and we had our heads so far up each other's asses that we used one another's lungs to breathe. Three months into dating we were talking about getting married when we graduated (keep in mind, three months into dating I has JUST. STARTED. CLASSES. There was even a brief while during Spring quarter my freshman year that I toyed with the idea of transferring to Kent Read, Kent Write, Kent State to be closer to him.

This did not happen.

But it got me thinking and eventually I began thinking that maybe I wasn't ready to be in such a serious relationship. Maybe I wanted to have the normal college experience that I wasn't having by driving 4 hours home and 4 hours back every other weekend. Maybe, at 19 years old, I just didn't want to have the rest of my life planned.

While all those are certainly part of the reason I decided to break it off with Marc right after Christmas 2002, the real reason I quit is quite selfish. The real reason I threw him one out of left field makes me a little bit ashamed. The real reason I told him I wanted to take a break is because I wanted to experience falling in love with someone else.

No. I know what you're thinking and it's the same thing that he thought. I didn't have anyone else specific in mind, rather I just wanted to prove to myself I could MAKE someone love me.

It didn't go well. And by that I mean I didn't date ANYONE again for three years.

Three years, I have found, is plenty of time to dwell on and feel guilty about my decisions because that is exactly what I did. I spent most of the next three years regretting tossing Marc away so callously and eventually began to fear that I'd ruined my only chance to ever find anyone. So when the Asshole came around in the summer of 2005 and showed some interest, I went for it. I wasn't that into him. I recognized right away that he was cocky and arrogent but after so long, a little bit of attention felt nice.

And then, as if by magic, he turned into a R-A-G-I-N-G, sardonic asshole who made me feel like a chore, who would make subtle yet chiding comments about my weight, and who, I'm pretty sure, might have cheated on me. Yet, did I end it? No. I held on bitterly believing I could make it work; being too stubborn and hard-headed to admit that I made a mistake; fearing, more subconsiously than anything else, that maybe this was my only chance (and, even worse, thinking maybe I deserved to get treated like shit for the way I hurt Marc).

Do not lecture me. I realize how dumb I was. Though that doesn't mean the fear has gone away.

I have recently realized that I have this pervasive fear that has effected two more relationships since the Asshole. I fear that this chance, this time has to work because I'm not going to get another. As a result I tend to put far too much stock into something that I KNOW isn't right, where I SEE the signs but I turn a blind eye because, technically, you can make it work with anyone (though, obviously I seem to be missing the point that just because I CAN doesn't mean I SHOULD).

And this trait, it bothers me, maybe even frightens me, to realize this propensity in myself.

The holiday's always suck for me. I am one of two three left in my age group who doesn't have someone significant in their life, and to be perfectly honest, it makes me lonely. While I know it isn't expected of me, I feel as though at (almost) 25, I should have this figured out by now. I feel should have some clue. I feel I should be tied down at a time in my life when I keep telling myself that is the LAST thing I want. Because I don't. I don't want to be tied down. Not yet. But what I DO want is the reassurance it will happen someday. I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO KNOW WHO. It's just the lack of a guarantee that has me flustered and apprehensive, that makes me cling longer than anyone should to a cause I have known all along wasn't what I wanted.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone. But I also don't want to settle because I'm worried that this is it.

The good news is, now I realize this, which means I can fix it.

The bad news is, if any new guy reads this, I've pretty much admitted I'm neurotic. It's okay Future Boyfriend! I fixed it! Besides, crazy is TOTALLY the new sexy.