My friend: “He’s emotionally unavailable, Alex.”
Alex: “Yes, I know. But I don’t care.”
This blog post comes to you with a soundtrack of this 80s classic by Simple Minds.
Yesterday I was chatting with my mentor. We talk about a whole raft of stuff. We ended up discussing my love life (again). After telling her about the most recent chapter of this saga my (exceedingly polite) mentor said, “Alex, I think we’ve known each other for long enough that I can be completely honest with you.”
I nodded apprehensively.
“Well, what the f&#% are you doing?!”
I sat up straight. Oh, boy, I did.
I guess she had a point: there’s just a slight chance that I had used certain gents as an quick-fix ego boost.
But let’s not get bogged down in that for the moment.
It occurred to me a few days ago that, despite their being different, every single gent whom I’ve been involved with romantically etc over the past year has had something in common with all of the others. Every. Single. One.
And that, my dear chipmunks, is that they have all been emotionally unavailable.
“What exactly do you mean by ’emotionally unavailable’?” you ask. Good question.
‘Emotionally unavailable’ has thus far ranged from not being over an ex, to being newly single (but not telling me), to being so insecure that it was crippling, to not having the mental or emotional space for a relationship. And when I found out that they were emotionally unavailable it all made a heck of a lot of sense. Apart from the one where I knew he was emotionally unavailable from the outset, but instead I chose to ignore that fact and my friend’s advice about him. And as a direct result of this I now have a particularly amusing story tucked up my sleeve.
But seriously. What is it with me and emotionally unavailable guys? Do I attract them? Or do they attract me? Do I have “I HEART EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE GUYS!” on my forehead in permanent marker and nobody’s bothered to tell me because it allows you to all have a little giggle at my expense every time you see me? If so, hey – a part of me doesn’t blame you. I reckon I’d laugh at me, too. But the other part of me would quite like you to tell me where exactly this permanent marker is. NOW, please.
Another thought, is that perhaps we are all emotionally unavailable to a greater or lesser extent. There could be a few teaspoons of truth in that. Perhaps. But if we’re talking about degrees of emotional availability, I end up being attracted to (or attracting) gents who have multiple cups of unavailability. Teaspoons are for babies.
In the mean time, it’s getting to the stage where my close relatives have started inquiring into my long-term relationship with Singledom and when on earth Singledom and I are going to break up.
I wish I was kidding you, but here’s what my grandma said to me only last night whilst I was telling her about my Latin dance classes:
Grandma: “Oh, that’s a shame. I was really hoping that you would meet a lovely young man at your classes, darling.”
Alex: Smile that gritted-teeth smile. Talk about how you are happily single. You ARE happily single. I know. Smile. Smile!
Is it unreasonable to want to be with someone who is emotionally available? Am I being overly demanding? Is that asking too much? All I’m asking for is a good egg. A good egg who can differentiate between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ with ease.
But if there are no metaphorical good eggs to go around then I guess I’ll just continue to content myself with the literal version: poached eggs with avocado on toast at brunch with friends.
Yeah, Singledom isn’t that bad..