Dating Profile

The worst part about going through a break up is the knowledge that one day, you'll have to take another plunge into the icy depths of the dreaded dating pool (you know, the one you thought you were finally done swimming in?).  It's perfectly fine to enjoy living the single life, of course, but let's be real-no one wants to end up alone.  If you read my last blog post, you know that I'd been struggling with the lingering effects of heartbreak.  It's been a few months now, and over the course of that time I've gotten more than a fair share of advice from friends, family, and a Pinterest link or two (or fifty).  Nothing groundbreaking, as heartbreak is something that all of us experience on some level during our tenure as humans.  Anything that can be said on the subject has already been said a trillion times.  Still, it was helpful to hear other people's tales of despair and the steps they took to overcome them.  Lean on your friends, watch lots of comedies, stay active, give it time, blah blah blah.  I didn't stumble across anything that I wasn't already doing.  As time went on, though, I started hearing a new suggestion, and a terrifying one at that.  "Maybe you should start looking for someone else."  Someone else?  After having my fragile heart completely blown to smithereens, I was expected to find someone else to give it to and hope that it wouldn't happen again?  There were six years in between my last two relationships, so it'd be okay to wait another six before I dated again, right?  That would only put me at...at...oh god. That would put me at 34 years old.  I suppose I can see where people are coming from.  

Dating sucks for anyone, but it's particularly difficult for someone who doesn't have a whole lot to offer.  Before my sweet friends get their undies in a bundle over that statement, let me explain.  I know that I'm a nice person, and I have a few good qualities.  I'm sure that dinner with me wouldn't make for a completely unbearable evening.  Imagine, though, me trying to secure a date the modern way-you know, via a dating website.  I'm not knocking the matcharmooskfish.com users out there.  I know quite a few people who have had success with those sites.  Unfortunately, I had enough trouble trying to make myself interesting in my 140 character Twitter bio.  I'm not adventurous, stable (financially, or sometimes even mentally), thin, highly educated, or well traveled.  Purely out of curiosity, I googled "online dating profile examples."  If I were to make one, it would end up looking something like this:

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Name: Cherrie. No no, really.  Not like "Cherry."  I'm not a stripper, I swear. 

Age: 28. No, that's not my biological clock you hear, it's just the timer on my Easy Bake Oven. 

Interested in: Men.  Bitches be crazy. 

Lives in: The basement of a house owned by people much younger and far more put together than I am.  Oh, you meant TOWN? Danbury. Forget that other thing.

Ethnicity: White.  Can't tell you much more, my parents don't know their own heritage. 

Body type: Depends on how much pasta I've eaten that week.  

Height: Ugh, don't worry, I won't wear heels around you.

Drinks: Socially.  Or when I'm sad.  Or when I'm happy.  

Smokes: No way! Though there's always the possibility it can happen if I'm drunk and in a social situation.  Or drunk and sad.  Or drunk and happy.  

Occupation: Childcare.  Sorry, I'll be eternally broke.  But I promise that I don't care about how much you make if you don't care about how much I don't make!

Children: Ehhhhh, it would take a miracle to get me to change my mind.  Or an accident.  

Faith: None.  Not in a god nor in humanity.

About Me:

Uh....well, let's see.  I like pizza more than I'll ever like anything or anyone.  I often wear blue lipstick and eyeliner wings so sharp they could cut a diamond.  I've re-read the entire Harry Potter series more times than I have fingers.  Moms don't usually like me, so chances are yours won't either.  My friends call me "opinionated," which is just a nice way of saying that I will defend my thoughts and ideas until I've annoyed you so much, you won't want to talk to me anymore.  I don't have a "real career," so I hope you don't mind our picket fence being painted with whatever color is in the clearance section at the local Walmart.  I'm not sure I own any piece of clothing that could be considered "conservative," so you may not want to bother introducing me to your grandparents.  My family is crazy.  Not the cute kind of crazy, the way that girls in movies describe their families before they bring a guy home to find everyone quietly bickering at the table over something that'll be resolved before the 88 minutes are up, but the kind of crazy that you see in those sad "Intervention" type shows.  I talk way too much.  I laugh so loud that my own nephew is terrified of me.  I ask a million questions during a movie, even if it's your first time seeing it too.  I don't know anything about cars, technology, or anything that has wires.  I will never care about having money.  A big house, fancy car, and designer clothes are not things I ever care to acquire.  I'd rather sleep in your t shirts instead of sexy pajamas.  I can probably outdrink you.  I will probably brag to your friends about being able to outdrink you.  I wake up about 4-5 times a night.  I snore when I'm stuffy.  I refuse to watch horror movies.  I don't know how to tie a tie.  I often twirl around and sing, despite lacking the grace and vocal range required for such a task.  I'm incapable of taking a sip of something without basically qualifying for a wet t shirt contest.  I listen to the same music that I listened to when I was a kid.  There will never be a Britney Spears album that I won't own.  I like romantic comedies and I watch Sweet Home Alabama about once a month.  I'll never order a salad.  I'm extremely stubborn.  I swear like a truck driver.  If you want to spend your life with a total weirdo, feel free to message me!

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See the problem?  Honestly, I simply trust that the Universe will point me in the direction I'm supposed to go, so I'm not in too much of a hurry to get back out there in any serious way.  I do wonder what kind of feedback I'd get if I actually created a profile using all of the above honesty, though... Perhaps an experiment for the future!  Right now, I'm content  with how my life is going.  I'm loved by a crazy family, I have at least 3 pizza places on speed dial, and I have plenty of dresses to twirl in.  There's not much more to life than that.  Those who disagree need not apply. 

peace & pizza,

C

Disease

I haven't had my heart broken in about 8 years.  Until now, obviously, or I wouldn't have opened with that sentence.  For almost a decade, I've been able to keep my tender, squishy heart frozen in contentment.  I've only had to endure two painful breakups before now, and I'm astonished at both how similar and completely different they feel.  Nausea, swollen eyes, a seemingly endless supply of warm tears, 'round the clock tightness of the chest, the constant flood of memories that must be shoved to the back of the mind AT ALL COSTS so as not to succumb to the panic that's just waiting for you to let your guard down-those things happened following each breakup that I experienced.  The difference between each is the severity of those symptoms.  I say "symptoms" because heartbreak takes a physical and mental toll on a person and can last for weeks or even MONTHS (cue fresh tears and an audible crack of my heart).  OH GOD, SOMEONE GET ME A CUPCAKE.

My first experience with heartbreak occurred at age 19, and while I'm aware that 19 is young, I don't think it's fair to insinuate that my youth meant my feelings were not valid.  We dated for almost a year and a half, he was the first person that I said the words "I love you" to, and when it ended, I was devastated.  It was my call, and the right one, but I still felt empty and broken.  A (now) funny, very dramatic quote from a journal entry at that time: "The past 3 1/2 hours have been agony.  I wonder what I did to deserve such a harsh punishment.  Yes, I feel sad, but that's not all.  I feel betrayed, angry, confused, frustrated, and alone."  That was October 17, 2005.  It was two days after the breakup, and only three weeks before I met the person who would be the next to break my heart.  Three weeks doesn't seem like a long time (mostly because it isn't), but they were, as my teenage self so poetically described, agony. 

While my first heartbreak may have only lasted for about as long as it takes to blink your eyes, my second felt like it lasted months.  Technically, that's because it did.  The initial end of the relationship was followed by many months of attempted reconciliation, which obviously made the healing process quite difficult (i.e. impossible).  It took about 8 months of that roller coaster before I swallowed the hot coals of acceptance and flung myself off the ride.  The following is NOT, I repeat NOT an excerpt from a forgotten Days Of Our Lives script or MTV reality show, but is a quote from my journal around August 2007: "The person that I love more than anything is less than 4 miles down the road, but at the same time, he's a million miles away.  How did this happen?  What about me is not worth it?"  The real question is, HOW DID I NOT GO INTO DRAMA?  What a waste of one of the few talents I seem to possess... In any case, that pain was worse than that of my first heartbreak, and it took me significantly longer to recover from.  I tried dating other guys, most casually, one seriously, but it turns out that if you aren't over someone, dating other people is a fucking drag.  The "serious relationship" that I mentioned did not end in heartbreak (for me, anyway).  I was sorry to have hurt him, but I didn't love him, so there was no pain or confusion to dwell on after it ended.  That was in 2008, and I'd spend the next 6 years not bothering with love at all.  I had "things" with a few guys, but nothing serious enough to consider calling them boyfriends.  Honestly, that suited me just fine.  I am not the type of person that cannot function alone.  I truly enjoy my own company and don't believe in the idea that you need another person to feel whole.  A person should complement you, not complete you.  I didn't meet anyone that sparked a fire in me, so I didn't feel like I was missing out. 

Cut to about a year ago: after a few months of friendship, I realized that for the first time in a long time, there WAS a fire.  The situation seemed impossible, the waters ahead rough at best.  I jumped in anyway, and wholeheartedly.  To jump in and risk pain or stay out and feel nothing?  No brainer, in my opinion.  If you have two options and one of them is love, always choose love.  No amount of heartbreak will ever keep me from making that decision.  Love is always worth the risk.  Clearly, it did not end as I'd hoped, so now that I'm in the throes of heartbreak again, I'm feeling all of the aforementioned symptoms in more severity than I have experienced thus far in life.  I think there are two reasons for that-it's the first one that I've experienced as a "real grownup" (however terrible I am at being one of those), and I had a certain vision for my future with this person.  A vision which seemed more attainable and realistic than any past future I'd imagined.  The second reason is that it's the first relationship of mine that has ended with neither party having done anything "wrong."  It's much harder to accept something terrible in your life when you don't have anything to blame it on.  The hard part now will be attempting to move on while not dwelling too much on the "what could have been"s or the "if only I had..."s.  My previous breakups left me angry, and the idea of wishing those guys well was laughable at the time (though I do now!).  This time is different, and I wouldn't dream of wishing a great person anything less than a wonderful life.  Maybe I am a decent grownup after all!

I'm no relationship expert and I'm smart enough to know that as humans, we'll never really know shit about life, but I do know that I'm incredibly lucky to have had my heart broken a few times.  I mean that, and it's because I know that love is truly the most important and greatest thing that life has to offer.  Having a broken heart just means that I've been fortunate enough to experience love, and I will never regret any decision that led me to it. 

Here's to hoping that it doesn't take another decade to find me again.

xxxC