Me and Mister Unavailable: 2010 Year in Review

I have to admit...I began this thing in January thinking that, A, I'd date a bunch of guys, write about them, meet "the one" and then never write in here again. Or that, B, I'd date a couple of guys and then sink into another five-year dry spell. Either A or B, I suspected I'd recount all the emotionally unavailable men of my past (because that's why I started this) and be done, with this blog not continuing beyond about June and with nothing dramatic happening.

I was wrong. Here we are, it's the end of December, and although I'm single again, I've dated more than I thought I would, and I could never have anticipated the amount of drama that did, in fact, transpire. Unfortunately, my ability to pick emotionally available men is still drastically impaired. Is it me? Is it this city? I do affectionately refer to New York City as The Island of Misfit Toys for a reason. Now more than ever, I'm baffled at how it is that people get married in their twenties--or ever...

But nevermind that. Let's look at what happened. I began the year placing my hope in a man-boy who appeared unavailable from the word hello. Still, I persevered--despite the disappearing act, the sudden cancellations and a horrifying glimpse into his vacant, unavailable heart. In the process, I had an epiphany: his inability to have what I would consider a real relationship had absolutely nothing to do with me. It was liberating. And, in the end, when I headed to Australia to likely never hear from him again, I truly didn't care.

Australia, too, provided a revelation of sorts. There, I met a Girl Gang, each member of which recounted a tale of heartbreak almost worse than the last--fleeing husbands, cheating boyfriends, guys that couldn't even handle a fling. Granted, it takes two and somehow these women played a role, but the lack of backbone displayed by the men in each of the stories was astounding.

Despite the proliferating tales of woe, I returned to NYC with a shiny new job and a mission to have a shiny new boyfriend before summer. On June 5, I met #111. My boyfriend. It was full of promise--mostly with him making promises and me believing them--but crashed and burned in a manner with which I'm all too familiar--suddenly and with no good reason.

However, personal progress was made.

As one friend said, "He was partially available"--a marked improvement from the man-boy that occupied January through March.

And I wasn't the one who irrationally bailed. On several occasions when I wanted to run, when I was afraid it wouldn't last, when I didn't feel attracted to him and thought I should end it, I stayed. (OK, I wasn't perfect. I admit to a mild obsession with the ex he talked about constantly. I even went so far as to look her up online--uh huh, he gave me that much information about her that I was easily able to find her. But I figure his incessant talk about all his exes was a way of telling me--or, really, of him trying to convince himself--that he was capable of a relationship, because deep down he probably knew he wasn't.)

Yes, it seems, despite many red flags, when I'm in, I'm in. Unfortunately, I chose to be in with someone who wasn't capable of being in with me--as all his talk about his ex proved ("She was afraid of commitment, she was incapable of intimacy" blah blah blah), he was only capable of being in with someone who wasn't capable of being in, which makes me think we're even more alike than either of us ever knew.

The stories are still unfolding--with #111, with #118--and with others who are moving into friend realm, like #109. I ran into him about a month ago at a gathering of like-minded downtowners. We had a rare confessional moment. Both of us were feeling beaten up by life and he basically admitted he needed to stop fucking around amongst our group of friends. He'd been to a gallery show the night before and was gripped with terror as he spotted a woman who he thought was an ex-situation. It turned out not to be her but he was in knots over getting the first post-break-up run-in over with. In nicer terms, I suggested he stop fucking around like that.

Then I told him about my ex-situation and how #111 ran away. #109 muttered, "If it's not someone else running away, it's me running away," then said, "Didn't I meet him?" Indeed, I'd forgotten that I'd run into him on my third date with #111. "He seemed like a tool," #109 said. I thought that was sweet of him to say. I also thought it was interesting that he confessed to being a runner. It just shows I give them too much credit in thinking they know not what they do. Apparently, they do know what they do.

And there will be more of them--available, unavailable, runners, new crushes, trow-droppers, snowbank guys, cheapskates, liars ... If anything, 2010 proved that. And if you ever doubt that, start a blog of your own. Anytime I thought no one else could possibly come along, someone else came along. I'd like to think each new one is just a little bit more emotionally available than the last. And hopefully with each new one, I am, too.

Like I told #111 in one of our last conversations: I don't want to be a walking dead person in a relationship that exists merely for its outsides. I want to be in something where it is safe to reveal my true self, where I trust that I won't be rejected for it and where I know that no matter what, the other person is in it with me.

(And if it could happen before I'm 40, that'd be great.)

Until next year...