Some of you may be wondering…

…what the hell is he talking about?

Believe me, I’ve been wondering that same shit lately.  I’m sure you get it by now: I’ve been cheated on and feel pretty salty about it.  Ok, now that that’s out of the way, let’s unpack it a little.

My acting teacher carries one of those huge podium-style dictionaries in a bag whenever he comes into class.  He says that a lot of times, even when we think we know what a word means, we might have something to learn from the dictionary definition.  So, whenever we come across a word in class that seems important, he whips out his big dictionary.

What I’m getting at is that a lot of people out there might have a working understanding of what it means to cheat or be cheated on, but after being told that it’s time to get over it, I’m starting to think that it might help to whip out my big dictionary and really understand what is going on.

According to my computer’s dictionary program, to Cheat:

To act dishonestly or unfairly in order to gain an advantage, especially in a game or examination.

To deceive or trick.

To use inferior materials or methods unobtrusively in order to save time or money.

To avoid something undesirable by luck or skill.

The overarching theme is that cheating benefits no one except for the cheater.  That might seem obvious, but if to love is to give, to cheat is purely selfish, the polar opposite of love.

On the effects of cheating: The last definition is to avoid something undesirable by luck or skill.  Something undesirable.  Just to be totally obvious, the “something undesirable” is the partner being cheated on.  I’m sure there are experts out there who can speak to the myriad psychological effects of being cheated on, but the bottom line is that to cheat is to deceive, which opens the door to a slew of issues with commitment, trust, and self-esteem.

There’s a dude out on the west coast, Dr. John Gottman, who’s been studying relationships to scientifically quantify them and what makes them work.  He’s found that relationships are the basis for emotional health, cognitive development, and ultimately, how we learn throughout our lives.  One of the things he’s found from studying romantic relationships over the last 35 years or so is that healthy successful relationships have a positive-negative ratio of 5-1.  That means for every negative thing someone does to their partner, they do 5 positive things.  It doesn’t take a scientist to know that people are more inclined to be self-critical, so for their partner to reinforce something negative about them would require at least 5 positive things just for the sake of balance.

So let’s put this in the context of cheating.  In order for it to be a wash, according to Dr. Gottman’s findings, the cheater would have to do some positive action that carries the impact of cheating 5 times.  Here’s where the cheater’s argument often loses steam.  The argument I’ve heard the most is, “You have to forgive me.”  Ok, yes forgiveness can be helpful, but doesn’t that just let the cheater off the hook?  Why isn’t it the cheater’s responsibility to earn back their partner’s faith and trust if they want to continue the relationship?  So the question should be, “what are you gonna do, cheater, to earn that forgiveness?”

People who are cheated on often blame themselves, are made to feel inadequate, and have trouble with trust in the future.  So what does it say when we focus on whether or not the victim is capable of forgiveness rather than the work that the cheater needs to do if (s)he wants to work it out?

If you’re like me and have a big ol’ red button about being cheated on, that positive thing your partner does for you might have to end up feeling like an Olympian winning a gold medal.  Now try to do that 5 times.

Is it an uphill battle?  Yes.  But if you’re gonna cheat on your partner, you’re bringing that on yourself.  Relationships are already hard work without adding bullshit expectations about being forgiven for something as shitty as cheating.  You’d be lucky if your partner gives you another chance after being cheated on, so take your destiny into your own hands and do what it takes for the relationship to work.

There’s a quote that I’ve always liked from an alternate ending of The Last Kiss :

It’s always amazed me how much a choice you make in a fleeting instant can change your life forever.  I just feel so lucky that the choices I’ve made have led me to exactly where I am… I can’t honestly say that Jenna’s completely forgiven me and for all I know she never will, but a wise man once told me you can’t fail if you don’t give up.  And guess what?  I’m not giving up.

So what is this all about?  Well, it’s time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself.  It’s time for the Wily Filipino Online Pity Party to turn the lights on and kick everyone out.  The hardest thing for me to realize is that for all my self-blaming, the onus falls on the woman who acts dishonestly.

Let this be the warning to you ladies out there.  You’ll never meet another guy like me.  Don’t fuck it up.

Why I might be Crazy, v2.0: She’s like a friggin’ Jedi

Oh, she’s good.  She’s continued to take and take, while giving nothing, and she’s managed to make me feel like the whole thing is my fault.  She’s like a friggin’ Jedi.

The Latest:  She asked if I consider myself single.  “Yes,” I reply, since I don’t have a girlfriend.  The follow up question was, “So if a girl asked you out on a date, you would go?”  “Sure,” I said, “depending on the girl.  If I wanted to go.”  Let’s unpack this for a second.  Societal norms in American culture dictate that in heterosexual dating, the man usually asks the woman out on a date.  I can’t remember the last time I was asked out that didn’t involve the name Sadie Hawkins.  But ok, if this mythical female asker-outer, who has somehow caught my eye, asks me out and I want to go, then yes, I’d probably go.  Hypothetically.

“Then you’re not choosing me.”

She proceeds to tell me that she’s going to accept the fact that we’ve broken up (2 months ago), and she’s going to move on.  OK, so what she wants is a guy to date her exclusively.  Back in the Philippines, we have a term for something like that.  It’s…um… BOYFRIEND.

The nail in the coffin is that I’ve been walking around for the past few days feeling guilty about hurting her.  But wait, what exactly did I do to her?  Break up with her 2 months ago?

She told me that the reason she didn’t want to talk to me, during the weeks before we broke up, was that she thought we’d fight.  And she was so busy that she didn’t have time to fight with me.  I accept that.  We had been fighting.  Our recurring fight was that I was feeling like she was putting our relationship on the back burner (because she’s so “busy”), and it’s hard enough being long distance.  I just wanted some reassurance that she still wanted to be with me because her actions were saying otherwise.  Her response to me was that she didn’t want to feel responsible for my feeling secure in our relationship and that I should figure it out for myself.  So instead of continuing to be an active part of this relationship, she chose to duck and cover.

And now that we’re broken up, I’m supposed to choose her?

This coming from the woman who told me she didn’t want to be “in a relationship,” then continued to date me for 4 more months, saying that she wanted to see where things would go between us.  She eventually told me that she loved me, and a month later hooked up with another guy while she was out of town.  But she made me feel like I didn’t understand the circumstances because she had made it clear that we weren’t TECHNICALLY boyfriend/girlfriend.

She says things like, “You think I’m a horrible person,” and “I ruined your life.”  We even had a conversation a while back about how she felt that she had projected a lot of her guilt and insecurity on me throughout our relationship.  But it all came up again in this latest conversation.  How I think she’s a “bad person.”  The only thing I could say in reply is, “If you took a look at a transcript of our conversation, you wouldn’t see the words “bad person” until right now. YOU keep saying that, not me.”

Look, I know it’s hard, but sometimes when you fuck up, the best thing to do is admit it.  Going around saying, “but look at all the times I didn’t fuck up,” doesn’t really get you anywhere.  It makes you look like you’d rather protect your ginormous ego than admit that you did something wrong once.

“I hurt you and I’m sorry” goes a long way.  A much longer distance than “I didn’t do anything wrong!  except for that one thing.”  Because, ultimately, that one thing can be pretty important.

Her unwavering defense of her out-of-town make out only served to further devalue my feelings about the situation.  Every time she said, “I haven’t done anything since we’ve been exclusive,”  just reminded me that she still thinks that I was being unfair to her by allowing her cheating tendencies (for lack of a better term) to hurt me.

And now that we’re broken up, I’m supposed to be choosing her?

The big question mark in my brain was, why is she calling me from the grocery store to have this conversation?  Did she not think that this might be something I might want to talk about?  She kept saying that she HAD to talk to me today.  She HAD to. Then she abruptly had to go because other people were depending on her for something.  Her roommates were leaving to go somewhere.

Through the magic of facebook, I found out that they were going to a party.  Ahhhhhh, so.  She HAD to talk to me?  That day?  Before the party?

OK, I’m not an idiot.  I’ve been made to feel like my imagination is overactive at times, but come on.  Is it possible that she called to get my “permission” to make out with whoever this new guy is, and he was gonna be at the party?  She’s been so wracked with guilt since the last time she went out of town and made out with some guy, that this time she wanted to get me to push her into the arms of another guy.  I can hear her rationalization right now.  “But I told you that since you weren’t choosing me that I was going to move on.”

Oh, she’s good.  She’s continued to take and take, while giving nothing, and she’s managed to make me feel like the whole thing is my fault.  She’s like a friggin’ Jedi.

When was the last time you played?

As I douse myself with antibacterial hand sanitizer, I can’t help but smile at all the cute kids at the Halloween costume contest at the Mall.  Ok, so escorting the big shrimp isn’t the most glamorous job in the world, but every once in a while you get to remember what it was like to be a kid.  Today was one of those days.

There was a woman, who I later found out was Grandma, standing in line to register for the costume contest with her toddler.  I’d guess 2-3 years old.  Pacifier in mouth (the kid, not the grandma).  I walked up holding a sticker out for him and said, “Hey Spiderman, do you want a sticker?”  And Grandma promptly answered, “He doesn’t talk yet.”  Thanks, Grandma, The pacifier was a big hint.  I bet your grandson isn’t, in fact, Spiderman either.

I’ve always wanted to have a kid, and I didn’t really know why until today.  Yeah, kids are disarmingly cute and they have unbelievable imaginations and you can mold and shape them into little versions of yourself.  Perhaps even cooler versions of yourself, if that’s possible.  But that’s not why I want to have a kid someday.  I want to have a kid because they give you a whole different perspective on life.

As a dude in his 30s (yeesh), I know I have responsibilities.  There are rules to follow, and a lot of that boils down to one word: Fear.  Fear of what people will think, fear of losing everything I’ve built up, fear of failure, fear of looking foolish.  You probably won’t be surprised at how many adults turn down the stickers I hand out, while this one sticker seems to make their kid’s day.  The stakes are high for us grownups.  But when was the last time you played?  I mean, yes, we all have responsibilities to attend to, but why can’t we do both?  Why does being an adult mean that we have to abandon the joy of life that being a kid brings?

Kids remind us that we all have the capacity to believe, to love unconditionally, and to live for each moment.  They’re not trying to win some prize or tell themselves “I’ll be happy when…”  Their mere presence in a room changes the energy of that room completely.  Something innocent and pure; they wear their emotions on their sleeves, along with the requisite amount of mucus.  Their joys and their sadnesses are fully expressed, they don’t get self conscious or try to hide their feelings for anyone else’s benefit.  They just are who they are.

I think I have a lot to learn from kids.  There’s a part of me that’s yearning to remember what it was like, and one of the few ways to do that is to be around them every day.  To be invited to play and be silly.  To give myself the permission to smile and laugh as boldly and completely as I feel.  And to let my life be affected, changed by someone else.  Maybe even someone cooler than me.

Speaking of playing:

How many legs does a dog have?

“If you call the tail a leg, how many legs does a dog have? 4, just because you call the tail a leg doesn’t make it a leg.” –Honest Abe Lincoln

Neale Donald Walsch writes in Conversations with God, “Words are really the least effective communicator. They are most open to misinterpretation. Words are merely utterances: noises that stand for feelings, thoughts, and experience. They are not the real thing. Words are the least reliable purveyor of Truth.”

My high school religion teacher taught that Love is to give of one’s self for the betterment of another.  To give.  I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, because this has become my definition of love.  When I say, “I love you,” I’m saying that it’s not about what I get.  I just want to make your life better.

Now, let’s be honest, there are more than a handful of people out there who think they can boil Love down to that warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you really like someone.  Ok, maybe that’s real enough for them, but what if that feeling goes away?  Then what?

It reminds me of a song from Fiddler on the Roof, where Tevye sings to Golde about their decades of life together, and he finally asks, “Do you love me?”  What strikes me about this is the idea that they’ve been together for years and have never told each other that they love one another.  They just did it.  They loved each other the whole time and never said peep.  But the point is that they loved each other.

This isn’t the chicken and the egg; it shouldn’t be a dilemma.  You can say the words and hope that they’ll come true, or you can do the behavior and find the words later.  For my money, the latter sounds like a better idea.  Calling something love doesn’t make it love.  Love is a verb, it has to be active.  At the end of the day, it’s about choices.

Will a piece of paper or a ring or a vow stop someone from cheating?  It depends on how much that person values that piece of paper/ring/vow.  From my experience, it’s not the paper nor ring nor vow that makes the difference,  it’s simply a person making a choice.  Choosing not to indulge a short term desire, but to honor a long term love.  I guess my experience has taught me that the label can only mean something if the choices of the people involved give it meaning.  And a person’s actions, as a manifestation of who they are, what they care about, and what’s in their soul, is the only thing that counts.

Love isn’t totally devoid of feelings, but there’s a caveat:  It’s not about your own feelings, it’s about the other person’s.  Maya Angelou said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Love is about the things we do to make the other people in our lives feel good.  And when you’re doing that with your whole heart and soul, it’s not subject to interpretation.

A Quick Note About My Cup

It hit me like a ton of bricks square in the face the other day while I was walking around the Mall:  I need to empty my cup.

There was once a Zen master who was known far and wide for his wisdom.  Many people came to visit with him with the hopes of catching a glimpse of his insights.  One day, a very wealthy and powerful man came to see the Zen master.  The wealthy man asked the master to teach him Zen so that he would be enlightened.  So the master began to teach.  The wealthy man, hoping to impress the Zen master with a demonstration of his vast knowledge, would interrupt the master’s teachings to interject some amusing anecdote or some teaching he had previously heard.  When the tea was served, the master began to pour the tea into the cup of the wealthy man.  The cup filled to the brim and began to overflow, and the master continued to pour.  Spilling the tea on his expensive robes, the wealthy man, stood and said, “Master, can’t you see that the cup is full?”  The master smiled and said, “You are like this cup, so full that nothing more can be added.  You are full of your own ideas and opinions.  How can you learn anything unless you first empty your cup?

I’ve been in Good Boyfriend mode for a long time.  I’d be walking around the Mall and I’d see something that my girlfriend might like, and I’d file that away.  I’d get a good date idea, and file that away.  Or I’d even be talking to her and hear about something she saw and was interested in, and I’d file that away.

I have all this energy that has been trained to make sure that I’m being the thoughtful boyfriend, constantly looking for clues as to how I could make the woman I love smile.  The trouble I’m having, now that that’s over, is in the harnessing and redirecting of that energy.  My cup is full of this energy, and unless I empty myself of it I won’t be able to move forward.

This is part of my nature.  I don’t think that this behavior is a bad thing.  It’s just that when all this mental, physical and emotional energy has been devoted so long to a singular pursuit, and suddenly the trail goes cold, what can I do to keep that energy from leading me down the expressway to Negative Town?

Case in point:  Early in our relationship, she told me that she loved Skyline Chili, from the Ohio area.  On one of our first dates, she sacrificed her last can to make some for me.  You can’t really get it here in Minnesota, so I sent her a case of it via the internet while she was working out of town.  Much to my dismay, She didn’t quite put two and two together, and she thought they were from someone else (I suspect that this was due to the fact that she was interested in another guy while she was out of town, but I digress).  I recently recalled this story and it was like a punch to the gut.  It emptied the air from my lungs, the wind from my sails.  My Good Boyfriend Mode was set on High, and it yielded a very disappointing result.  So I spiraled down, led by the same energy that kept telling me to “remember she likes Skyline Chili”.

I wouldn’t say that it’s frantic energy, it’s just lost its bearings.  So now it’s bouncing around my head and heart absolutely directionless like the DVD standby icon thingy that gets bumped around the screen.

My cup runneth over, and not in a good way.  Time to tip some out for my homies.

Gimme a Break, Giiiiimme a Break, Break Me Off a Piece of That…

“I think we need to take a break.”

“We’re already on a break.  We’re away from each other.”

This line is still ringing in my ears.  Ok, yeah, long distance relationships are hard.  I don’t know anyone who would dispute that.  To a certain extent, she was right.  What’s the difference between being together and breaking up?  The extra 5 minutes we get to sleep since we’re not calling each other to say goodnight.

I’ve noticed how quiet my phone is lately.  She and I texted a lot more than we talked, and when I wouldn’t respond to her text I’d definitely be hearing about it.  And since my phone seems to be taking a break, I’m realizing that while she didn’t have a great presence in my day to day life, she had a huge presence in my heart.

My roommates bear the brunt of my daily lamentations.  The other day I expressed some confusion about why I’m feeling the way I am, and I was told this:

“You gave her your heart.”

I know full well that the only thing that kept her from making out with other guys were the words Boyfriend and Girlfriend.  We’d been over this before.  It was the title that mattered to her, and it was the feeling that mattered to me.  This came up when we first started dating and another guy came into the picture.

“Technically, we’re not Boyfriend/Girlfriend.”  She’d say.

“But you’ve been telling me you love me.”

She’s incredibly attractive and intriguing, so I’m sure that she’s had to fend of more than a few guys during our time together, and now that the label has peeled off, she’s free to avail herself of all the tonsil-hockey she can stomach.  And if she really meant what she said, that we were already on a break from each other, then perhaps she isn’t struggling as much as I am.

But that’s just it:  I’m struggling more than I thought I would.  Because I love her and that doesn’t go away so easily.  I wouldn’t have been able to spend any significant time with her for the next 3 months or so anyway, and that became problematic.  Especially since her track record spoke for itself.  Every time she’d gone out of town for work in our dating life, despite the passion we had for each other, the “I love you’s,” and big spoon/little spoon relationship we’d worked out over more than a few amazing nights, we still weren’t “technically” Boyfriend/Girlfriend.  And there was always another guy whose attention she’d accept.

At the end of the road, all I wanted was for her to acknowledge that the distance was causing some stress.  Here’s where things start to get weird for me.  I’ve always heard women talk about wanting their guy to want to go above and beyond, to choose to do things they might not normally do, but to be motivated by the desire to make her happy.  That’s essentially what I wanted from her.  I just wanted her to know that, considering my past experiences (including the few incidents in the early stages of our relationship), a long distance relationship was difficult for me.  And I simply wanted her to want to put my mind at ease.

I used to be a guy who gave her a vase and promised to keep it full.  A guy that promised himself that he’d never give her the same kind of flowers twice.  A guy who cooked a week’s worth of food for her during a particularly busy stretch in her schedule.  A guy who, rather than send flowers or candy, found a website where he could order her favorite chili and have it sent to her on the road.  A guy that could tell her anything and feel like she wouldn’t judge him.  A guy that used to climb trees.  A guy that loved without fear.

What happened to that guy?  The fear ultimately consumed him; swallowed him whole.  That guy is gone.  He’s been on break for a long time now.  So long, in fact, that he’s no longer missed.

Well, break’s over.

Thank God for Cheaters

As I’ve been isolated from the outside world by my newly injured back as well as the sub-zero weather, I’ve had a lot of time to think and to read.  And as 2008 comes to a close, I can’t help but review the highlights of the year-gone-by.  So I’ve come to this:

Thank God for Cheaters.

I know I’ve devoted a good deal of consonants and vowels toward dealing with my disdain and anger about the situations I’ve found myself in romantically, but it’s time for me to get off the mat and lift a finger to the lord.  No, not that one.  The one next to it.  Yep.  That one.

Whether you believe that there’s a divine plan or not, or if you’d rather call it fate or destiny, it seems to me that it’s all in the way you look at it.  It could be a random sequence of events, or there could be a purpose behind all the… I think the doctors prefer the term “discomfort.”  And whatever it might have been for them wimmins that done broke my heart, all I know is that they’re someone else’s problem now.  Good riddance: Don’t let the door hit’cha where the good lord split’cha.

I don’t know if I totally believe in destiny, but from where I sit it looks like the world out there has a natural balance to it.  And maybe that’s all destiny is, really: the world just trying to stay level.  And maybe part of that process is that some people fight, and others live to fight another day.

Just about everything I know about relationships by watching my parents.  Yeah, they fight, they nag each other, they argue.  But, most of all, they love.  And no matter what happens, they will always put each other first.  I suppose that’s what happens after nearly 40 years of marriage.  Naively, I took that and went on my merry way in search of that great love that people write epic poems about, but the thing is that not everyone knows what love like that looks like.  And for some women, as the hard way has taught me, the prospect of being loved like that is pretty friggin freaky.

Hearts get broken along the way, but you gotta keep in mind that it’s all for the greater good. It’s all meant to keep the world from tipping over and spilling all over the place.  Cuz no one is gonna wanna clean that up.  Maybe my heart had to be broken to save a life, bring rain to a drought-stricken area, or help Scarecrow get a new brain.  Either way, if it weren’t for being cheated on, my own stubbornness and propensity toward blind devotion would have kept me in some really (for lack of a better word) shitty relationships.  I guess the best lesson I’ve learned this year (actually just the last few weeks) is that emotional pain is like credit:  You can either pay it all off right away in one lump sum, or you can pay it off little by little and keep it looming over your head like a bad day.

So here’s where it Begins (I thought it might end here, but this seems to be the first step rather than the last).  Experience helps you realize what you are not, and once those puzzle pieces are in place you start to see what you are.  So to all those cheaters in my past:  Thank You…

For showing me what friendship is: People with the maturity to not feel compelled to pick sides and who will do what’s best for you as their friend while doing what’s best for me as my friend.

For encouraging me to be even more proud to be Filipino.  My kids are gonna be brown anyway, and that shouldn’t be something that anybody has to “deal with.”

For helping me see that keeping quiet and sacrificing my own wants and needs almost never turns out well.

For demonstrating that it takes courage to allow yourself to be loved.

You’ve taught me a lot, oh Cheaters of my past, but most of all you’ve helped me uncover bits and pieces of who I am.  And while I’m still a work in progress, it’s time for me to stop carrying around all that debt and making perfectly innocent women pay.  So this is it.  Your lump sum.

I mean, imagine the alternative:  We could still be together.

At least I have that going for me.

Gay is the new Black

Originally, I wasn’t going to throw my hat in the ring over the Gay Marriage issue.  But then I saw this online reaction to a review of my current show and it pushed me over the edge.  Remember, I’m doing a show called Altar Boyz, about a Christian boy band, which explores such egregious themes as acceptance, tolerance, and (god forbid!) faith.

Posted by a guy named Andy from Minneapolis:

Coming from a group of theater people that want gay marriage acknowledged by the church, not to mention the entire world, as a legal union…does this at all surprise you?

This is the garbage the Clean Arts Bills will continue to spew out.

First, I object to the premise that all “theater people” think alike.  Not to mention the fact that in his usage, “theater people” sounds a bit pejorative, which makes me want to kick him in the teef.  Secondly, I don’t think the Gay Marriage issue has anything to do with any specific denominations’ or churches’ acknowledgment.  My understanding of the issue is that proponents of Gay Marriage are simply asking the government to ensure that homosexuals are legally given the same rights that are afforded to us breeders.

[Let's also keep in mind that this appears as a comment on a musical theater comedy, that makes no reference to gay marriage.  The comment also cites "the Clean Arts Bills."  I can only assume he means the Clean Water, Land and Legacy Act, which ensures that Clean Water, Wildlife habitats, Parks and Trails and yes, Cultural Heritage get funding.  The Cultural Heritage component gets 1/5 of the funding.  Funding that hasn't even been generated yet, so I'm sure once it is generated, there will be plenty more of this garbage spewed out.]

Ok… so as it stands, Marriage is not currently a right.  It is a privilege that is given to those of us who identify as heterosexuals.  The argument is that marriage is described in the bible as a union between a man and a woman, but I can’t seem to find the chapter and verse on that… any takers?

Someone explain this to me like I’m a 4 year old:

A couple years ago, Britney Spears got married around new years, and stayed married for about 50-something hours.  How does that affect the sanctity of my parent’s marriage?  My possible future marriage?

How does gay marriage jeopardize a “sacred institution” that is so obviously sacred that over half of those who enter into this institution choose to end it in divorce?

My point is, as Jesus says, why do we notice the speck in another’s eye when I can’t see the plank in our own?  Worry about yourself.  My catholicism is MY catholicism.  Matt 7 says “Do not judge so that you will not be judged.”  Luke 6:37 echoes that by saying, “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; and do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; pardon, and you will be pardoned.”

All this coming from a man who, less than 100 years go, could not legally marry a American woman simply because I am a distant descendant of the Malay race.  So yes, marriage has been “redefined” over the last 100 years.

As I’m writing this, facebook comes through once again with this little ditty from Keith Olbermann of MSNBC.  After watching this, I really have nothing else to say:

My life as a single parent

There’s a scene from How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days that I’ve been thinking about lately.  It’s the Love Fern scene.  Kate Hudson’s character gives Matthew McConaughey a fern, in an effort to freak him out via the Too Much Too Fast method, and compares it to the relationship they’re starting.  She charges him with taking care of the Love Fern in the same way he would take care of the relationship.  When she discovers the dried up, dying Love Fern a few days later, she asks, “are you gonna let us die?”

I saw the movie two years or so ago with my X and then a little while later she and I went out and bought a huge Lucky Bamboo stalk and put it in a vase.  We joked that it was our version of the Love Fern.  As time went on, I realized that I was the only one that ever watered our lonely bamboo stalk, dusted off his vase, and made sure the rocks in his vase were clean.  Needless to say, the Love Bamboo eventually turned yellow and dried up, she went off and started fooling around with another guy and turned out to be my X.

This thought came to me today as I was gathering woodchips for a tree that was given to me for my birthday from the woman I was dating at the time.  At the time, I thought that this was a symbolic gesture telling me that this woman saw a future with me, but it turns out that the symbolism didn’t quite hold up when (wait for it…) another interested guy entered the scene.  But I’ve decided not to let another innocent plant die for the sake of making a point.

See, the thing that happened here is that it did end up the way the Kate Hudson described.  These plants became analogous of the relationships I was in when they came into my life.  Both times, I assumed the burden of being the one that cared for them.

For all my bitching and moaning about being cheated on and such, a friend of mine told me that, “the grass isn’t greener on the other side, it’s green where you water it.”  I guess I can’t sum it up better than that.  I just need to date better gardeners.

Facebook is a bitch; or, Being Defriended

I’ve been defriended on facebook.

This isn’t something that’s totally foreign to me, I mean, I’ve defriended some people.  The people who you knew from back in the day who don’t respond when you write on their wall… the “friends” you added because you thought you knew who they were then found out that you’ve been wrong this whole time… the friends who are really friends of friends and when you lose touch with that one person a whole chain of friends goes with them…

I’m guilty of defriending.  But this was someone I actually cared about.

OK… lemme come clean.  This was the girl I was dating.  Remember TGID?  Yeah, her.  Recently things have lingered in that grey space between the euphoria of having a new girlfriend and the depression that comes with breaking up.  I won’t go into the details why, but, needless to say, it’s been complicated.

There’s been bloodshed on both sides… and maybe my constant checking of her facebook page over the last few days is just my refusal to admit that there are certain unavoidable roadblocks in our way.  Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.  She’s given up on me, or at least doesn’t want anything to do with me and I should just move on.  Maybe it’s neither of those things.

I don’t know why it feels this way.  Kinda final.  The final blow.  The last arrow piercing my heart.  It’s supremely deflating.

We last talked (the other day) about how she thought we’d be together in the end.  Something I would have said only a few months ago.  Maybe she realized that she was wrong… maybe some other guy came along just in the nick of time to sweep her off her feet.  It wouldn’t be unreasonable to think so, given my track record.  But if she isn’t “her,” then who is?  I find myself asking that question on a pretty regular basis–in times like these.  There was still a bit of hope on my part that she was right.  We would be together in the end.

You’d think that this would accompany some explanation why.  I thought I’m worth at least that much effort.  But as all my Self Help reading from my last big breakup has told me, “You already have your answer.”  So that’s that.  I’ll wonder for a bit.  If she really meant what she said.  If her passion for me these last couple months was just a bit of reverse psychology.  If she ever really knew how to love another person, rather than just say that she did.

The thing is, I bought her a birthday present.  She mentioned that she has this Birthday Curse where guys break up with her before her birthday.  As much as I didn’t want to be another one of those guys, I had to give voice to my doubts, which led to more talking, which led to more pressure to decide either yes or no, and since I don’t like to commit to something if I’m not sure I can give 100%, here we are.  But that didn’t mean it was over for me.  Maybe it should be.

I wanted to work through my insecurities.  The Fears that I mentioned in my last post.  I suppose I’ll still do that, but for me instead of for “us.”  I guess the moral of the story is that you can’t always give.  Sometimes you have to take the time to be selfish.  Lesson learned.

A friend of mine at work told me the other day, “Nice guys really do finish last.  Look at me and [her boyfriend of several years], he was a total asshole when I met him.”

Ladies, tell me that’s not true.  And give supporting evidence.  Please.