In general, I am one who subscribes to what Dan Savage calls "The Campsite Rule" when it comes to lovers: leave them better than you found them - no emotional or physical trauma, no disease, no paternity scares. Take nothing but photographs, leave nothing but fond memories. In the brief, passionate affair arena, this is actually quite easy to do. Your emotions aren't really invested, and two (or more) people who have agreed to a good time while pantsless can make even the stingiest of us turn into givers. When it's time to part ways, whether it's the next morning or a few weekends later, you can keep your wits about you, acknowledge the good time had by all, and go about your business.
I know. But you have emotions, and you want connections, and if this person is good enough to have his/her head in my lady/dudeparts why isn't he/she boyfriend/girlfriend material? Why don't they just call me and tell me they're in love with me and we can be in love forever and MYFEELINGSGODDAMMIT.
That, right there? That's the cray cray coming out. You're taking liberties with another person, and you don't even know them. Listen. If you want to have a forever relationship, I really can't help you, because that's not what I'm about. But what I can do is put you back on track to quit the cray.
Luckily, what helps with the cray is taking control of the mundane things in your life. When you feel that your body is in control of itself, you find that your mind also snaps into place, and helps control yourself as well.
And now, the tips:
TAKE FUCKING CARE OF YOURSELF.
Every day. If you need three squares and eight hours each day, give that to yourself. If you need quiet time to read or meditate, make sure you've got it. See your doctor, if for no other reason than to get a complete panel of STD tests to make sure you're ready to rumble. If your meatshell is in relatively good working condition, you'll probably do less to fuck that up.
BE PREPARED.
Check your drawers. No, the ones in your bedroom and bathroom. Whatever your preferred method of birth control is, have it handy at all times. And then use it, hooker. Otherwise you're spending another $40 copay at the damn clinic getting another STD panel drawn. That would have been, like, a dozen more condoms and that crazy organic vegan lube.
IF YOU WANT TO, WALK AWAY. IF YOU NEED TO, RUN.
Yes. At some point, a dazzling person such as yourself will encounter someone who, on the surface, seems amazing. And then things start going awry. If you're full up on the cray, you will internalize this and think that it's something you've done that's causing this person to treat you like crap. And if you do a/b/c differently, s/he will respond in kind.
Hmm. Written in black and white right in front of you, can't you see how ridiculous this is? I'm not saying toss out the relationship with the bathwater, but you know if there is a fundamental wrongess with the person with whom you're with. I mean, really. You treat yourself well. You're protecting yourself. You've got on good underwear, people who support you, and your tarot is telling you to Protect Your House. You are fully versed in your own Campsite rules - leave them better than you found them, and they are just not reciprocating. You deserve better than this situation. As Mr. Savage so eloquently puts it, DTMFA.
FOR FUCK'S SAKE. DEFAULT TO HAPPY.
We're all going to be alone at points in our life. All of us. So you're not the only one who isn't paired up. And, OK. Maybe you will be. Maybe you won't. But you need to be happy with who you are, because these toy crises of confidence are so BORING.
I'm not saying you can't change things you don't like about yourself. Absolutely improve what you want, whether it's eating better or joining a gym, changing your hair color, having a spray tan, getting regular mani/pedis, what have you. But know that who you are is more than OK. In fact, it's wonderful. Your life itself, pitfalls and all, is fucking amazing, because you're still in it, you motherfucking rockstar.
Now go out and find your own site to camp in for a while.
No comments:
Post a Comment