September 09, 2012

Somebody to Love

Five or so years ago, I spurned Phil's advances once, telling him, "I'm tired of being convenient."

It was true: I was tired of being the only one who returned his calls at 5 a.m. But I wasn't tired of spending time with him, and I soon allowed myself to be seduced by him again. Immediately thereafter.

Dating in New York is all about convenience. In 2001, I hooked up for a while with a cute Irish construction worker who lived in Maspeth, Queens - which, as the crow flies, isn't that far from Greenpoint, Brooklyn, but with no car and a minimum of two busses to get there, the hour and a half commute got to me. I was plenty convenient for him, since I was the one to always go over there, but I ended it after a couple of months. It was just too hard, for too little payoff.

I think a lot of long-term relationships (regardless of where) arise out of convenience and proximity: you work together, you're neighbors, you have mutual friends, you're classmates, you frequent the same bar. Constant, repeated impressions finally sell the product successfully, and once you're together, it's just too much of a pain to break up and find somebody else.

But in LA, nobody is that close to anybody. If you want to be with someone, you have to work harder for it.

But somehow I've found myself convenient again. A person I've been seeing somewhat regularly but not seriously has taken to sending me late night text messages that read something like "I don't want to be alone" and "I would love someone here with me." Even if they wake me up, I've taken to ignoring them.

I don't want to be just someone. If you're looking for anybody, anywhere, keep looking. I want to be wanted for who I am, not because I'm there (or I can get there more quickly than others).

Find another hole.

Despite my bleak track record in the romance department, I do think it's possible for someone to choose me. On occasion, I have been admired by lovers and friends and distant acquaintances and classmates who are vocal in their adulation of me, and so I know that it is possible that I may fascinate someone. It is possible that they may think I am an amazing woman.

Will they love me? Well, that's a different story.

But I guess I can hold out hope, and not share my cookies with just anybody. After all, I'm not looking for just anybody. And I'm not looking for just somebody to love. I've loved plenty.

It's time to be loved back.

Related Posts:
Could I Be Loved?

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