December 25, 2009

Women Don't Want Weak Men

This is the follow up post to this one, the latest in the Fragment of Fiction story.

Women say that they want men who able to share their emotions. They like the idea of a man who can cry, but that has limits. They want men who emotionally open, but at the same time they don't want weak men. Lord help you if they think you are weak, it is the kiss of death.

Or so some people would perceive. Perception may not be the truth, but sometimes it is reality.

Relationships are such a funny thing. They can come at you from a million different angles. The great ones are the most unexpected. They come from out of nowhere. The man or woman that turns your life upside down isn't always the one that you expect it to be.

In my experience they usually are the last person you expect them to be. I know, that sounds trite and it is. It is a cliche for any number of reasons but it is because it is real. Maybe some of the power is derived from it having been so unexpected, I don't really know.

I am at a crossroads now, a transitional period of time that is inadvertently wreaking havoc upon me. If life were a movie the music would start to change now setting up the coming scenes. It would be subtle designed so that the audience didn't notice that they were starting to sit up a bit straighter in their seats.

In my overactive imagination you might even really see me standing in front of a forest, peering into the looming darkness. Darkness doesn't always have to signify danger, but it does wonders for building anticipation.

A million years ago you told me that you wanted to me to love you the way that I loved a few others. If I had a top five break up list  you would have wanted to be number one. But who could blame you, because I would say the same thing. I'd tell you that I wanted you to be happy, but in my heart I'd want you to pine away for me forever. It might not be my greatest trait, but it is honest.

Mr. Brightside  - The Killers

Pieces of that song have always made me think of you. I suppose that one could look at it as being bitter, but I like to see it from an optimistic light. That whole destiny is calling me thing is what grabs me. Call it youthful optimism.

When things changed I mulled over whether it was really goodbye or just a necessary break. You know that I hate saying goodbye, always have. But then again so do you. It is one of the many things that we have in common. It makes me chuckle, saying that.

I smile because as the queen of low expectations I know how you approach all of this. You call a general retreat and hide behind the castle walls. I call out and ask you to reconsider. I push, pull, hammer and holler. It is not necessarily the smartest or most effective way, but it is how I do things.

That gut instinct that I follow hasn't failed me with you, not completely. You make up lists of reasons why it can't work and stay busy. I make up lists of things that I miss about you  and stare at pictures of us. Sometimes the pain is significant, but it helps.

It is like jumping into an icy pool. At first it takes your breath away and then you become accustomed to it. And that is what I have striven to do, become accustomed to not having you around.

But here is the thing, I know how life works. I know that sometimes things seem impossible or far too difficult to work out and it is easier to let go. And I suppose that I could do that, I could let go and in time it would be just one more memory. But I am that dreamer, the big sap who wants to see the happy ending  to the crazy and at times chaotic story.

From where I stand this attempt to make that happen is the sign of strength, whereas letting go would be the sign of the weaker man. If it really is true that women don't want weaker men then this will serve me well.

No matter the outcome the ultimate question will be answered by me and me alone. And that question is can I go to sleep at night comfortably. Can I shut my eyes and feel like I did my best, mistakes and all. If I can do that, then there isn't much more to say.......


Heather Kephart said...

Wow, I think you totally hit the nail on the head with our last sentence. That's what it all comes down to, isn't it? Such pain is felt when we think we weren't all we could be, or we caused something potentially beautiful to fall into ruin.

Loved it!

Jack said...

The beauty of fiction is that we can tell the story as we wish it would appear or we can try and keep it "real."

That last 'graph is old family advice that I pass along to my kids. Some days will be bad, but they are are always easier when you can go to sleep knowing your did your best.

The hard part about that is accepting that sometimes your best isn't good enough.