Men Are Frogs

Warning to readers:  Dismal emotional content including pessimism, angst, and general consternation.  Read at your own risk.  Tomorrow will be a better day…And no offense to frogs.

I’ve spent some time reading old posts (again)  and I thought…how naive.  How silly and even juvenile I was to believe AGAIN what I had determined at the end of my marriage that ONLY crazy people believed.  That love could conquer all and that marriage was worth the pain risked.

Falling in love is like a magic spell. It makes people stupid.  It makes them believe.  While I enjoyed the fairytale adventure it is never what I craved.  No.  What I craved was a normal, trusting, comfortable, mutually satisfying, loving relationship.  Not the roller coaster we got.

Did it make for a good story?  You’re darn tootin’.  But it’s tired me out.  Yeah, I wish I could snap my fingers and get that awesome hug or kiss.  I want to wake up next to someone (who preferably doesn’t snore) without all the crap that comes with it (and by that I mean the lying kind of crap not the regular everyday crap cause I know that is real life.)

But I got on that roller coaster and I said, “I’m in.”  I knew the risks. I could potentially get very hurt.  And I was hurt.  Big surprise.

I wanted to feel the elation.  I wanted to squeal with joy.  I didn’t want to think about getting vomit splattered all over my face from the person in front of me puking their guts out.

What in the world would posses me to get back on that ride after that?  Any ride for that matter?  Why would I give my heart away again?  Ever?  Who wants puke on their face?

People lie.  People are no good.  They are selfish.  You can’t count on them.  It’s not worth it.  Period.

Am I in a bad mood?  I guess I am.  I know this doesn’t sound like me.  I know it.

Am I still ferociously mad at Martin?  Yes I am.  And this is me,  kicking and screaming trying to stay away from him when all he ever says is please, I love you, I’m sorry and shows me everything he is doing to make it right.  I’m not moving an inch.  I’m watching and waiting just like I said.  But it goes against my natural inclination and I hate that about me.  I hate that I am watching at all, and that I still care, or that even 1/2 % of me thinks maybe…like I thought maybe at the beginning of the relationship.  I was stupid to think maybe….

Sometimes I think it’s just better being friends with people – men.  Don’t mess it up with kissing.  Friends stay.  Love interests don’t.  Like a friend said to me the other day, men are frogs, they jump from lily pad to lily pad because they don’t wanna get wet. It’s the princesses who don’t mind getting wet.  It’s true sometimes.  Men leave.  Women pick up the mess.

UGH I still have such a broken heart.  All I can do is run.  Literally and figuratively.  That is the only thing that helps me lately.  I pray and I read my Bible, and I go to church, and that sustains me like my skeleton holds me up.  But the running keeps my fingers and toes from going numb with cold from lack of blood which makes me feel dead.  Pounding each step makes me feel like there is something I can do other than feel sad.

This princess wants to hang up her tiara.  No more princess parts for me please.  No more lily pads, no more frogs who think I should be on a pedestal – who can’t resist me.

And you know the funny thing…the stupid, idiotic, horrible thing….is I’m staying away from him in part, because I know in my heart he needs me to be out of his life  in order to “get better” and stronger.  And once he heals, his magic spell will be broken too, and he will realize how stupid he was for turning his whole life upside down for me.  He will come to his senses.  And jump to another lily pad far away from me for good this time.

He’s not there yet.  He’s still sending me pledges and trying to explain his panic and his regret.  I knew it was too good to be true.  I knew no one was that on fire to do something so huge and not have doubts.  He just didn’t discuss them with me.  He discussed them with other people.  And therein was his ultimate choice.  All I was – was a prize to him.  I wasn’t a person.  I was the princess he wanted as perfect as he could keep me.  As soon as I started looking like a normal person – one with flaws, stinking of the same thing we all do – he jumped.  As soon as it looked like he might get wet cause the river got too rocky, or scary – he jumped.  Cause men are frogs and that’s what they do.

I haven’t met one who isn’t yet.  And I’m beginning to think I never will.