I’ve often thought that I should write a relationship blog. Why? Because I’ve had so darned many of ‘em. Problem is, I’ve earned an advanced degree in Relationship Studies but with a concentration in Failure.
As you may recall, I’ve written quite a bit on the subject already. Over the last year I’ve made an effort NOT to write about relationships. I didn’t want to become one of those ubiquitous diary-esque blogs where I go on and on about frivolous details of my love life. Hello… snooze-fest! I mean really, who cares to read about my personal pratfalls to make intimate emotional connections with the opposite sex, anyway? (Actually, I know there are a bunch of you naughty, little voyeurs out there. I can see your glowing eyes from the shadowy alcoves of the internet.)
So why, if I’ve made an effort not to write about relationships, am I writing about relationships today?
Blame the definition of insanity.
According to the basic text of Narcotics Anonymous, the definition of insanity is, “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”. We’ve all heard this tiresome adage before. But it wasn’t until about a month ago it finally occurred to me that, according to the above definition, I’ve been completely, out-of-my-mind, whack for the past 17 years.
I’m not going to disclose the how’s and why’s of my mad relationship skills. I’ve got to consider the cost/benefit ratio here, and seriously guys, I’m not getting paid to write this sh*t (yet) so it’s not worth the risk of gunning down any more relationships for the sake of a few extra site hits. Hand me a paycheck and I’ll reconsider.
However, I can smell all your mouths salivating for details, so: No, I am not in a relationship, per se, at this time. In fact, I’m not even speaking (er, writing) exclusively about romantic relationships here.
Heck, I’m pretty sure I accidentally, single-handedly slaughtered a friendship just today. (I’m not joking. Apparently what I think is “funny” is considered by others to be “harsh”. Who knew?)
Here’s the deal: From now on I’m going to start doing things differently when it comes to people I care about. But I’m scared; I’m anxious; and I’m stumbling around in the dark and have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I’m a freaking dimwit when it comes to these things, so really, in that respect, things are not all that different. Except this time I’m stepping out of my old, familiar idiot zone and awkwardly walking around in a new one. Blindfolded.
I’ve decided to pull my helmet out of the closet, dust off my knee pads, and am fully prepared to fall flat on my face. The only protective gear I’m leaving behind? The one that goes over my heart. That’s usually the only one I never leave home without.
So here’s to hoping a two-word apology speaks volumes, an open heart opens doors, and a little love goes a long way.
You’ve also heard this tiresome adage before, but I’m sticking with my crazy on this one: Rate, Comment, Subscribe, Share!