A heroine somewhat prevented.
"But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way." --Jane Austen {Northanger Abbey}
In the lives of Mr. Cowboy and Dex {and every other blasted man I have dated} I was not the heroine. Perhaps I was even the antagonist at some point. However, certainly I am the heroine of my own life. Surely a hero will sometime be thrown in my way.
My problem is that I always hope that my hero will be a specific person, but it has yet to come to pass as I would hope. For example, I constantly daydream about Clive and how perfect we would be together. When he talks to me about Downton Abbey or his Ivy League School, I just sit back and imagine our life together. Him, a successful Ivy League Man, me a quaint Ivy League Wife, with our classy Ivy League Children, living in a comfortable Ivy League Home. But then I have to remind myself that it is more likely that I will never see Clive again and that someday he'll marry an Ivy League Woman with whom he will live a life of mutual admiration and respect.
Right now, I wish that Clive were my hero, but I suppose that often our wishes are not what is actually best suited for us.
But while on the topic of wishes, I wish that men didn't believe in five-hour dates.
When an old friend asked me to be his date for a group date with his apartment, I was thrilled. I know this group of men well, and I get along with all them exceedingly well. I even knew most of the women they were asking, so I was certain when they told me that it was going to be a five-hour date that it would be no problem. It would be just as if I were hanging out with a group of friends for several hours right? Wrong. Somehow when you slap the word date onto an activity it automatically makes it an awkward and dull affair, even among the strongest of friendships. By hour two, I was quite ready to be at home again.
Perhaps I am the problem. I have come to the conclusion that I positively hate dates. With strangers, with friends, with boyfriends. They are somehow unbearable to me. The word "date" makes me feel as though I have to pretend to be something, to put on an act, thus resulting in a personality not entirely my own. If dating weren't an essential step towards marriage, I would probably never consent to go on another one again.
I am a heroine somewhat prevented by my own naturally inclination towards unrealistic idealism and spinsterhood.
Con Amor,
The Lady
1 comments:
I can kinda relate. Though I think about dating a lot, getting asked out is rare enough that when a guy actually does call up, I get so nervous. Especially if I don't know the guy well. My first instinct is usually, "do I have a reason to say no and not to go??"
And then I feel lonely at all the lovey-dovey couples EVERYWHERE.
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