Will's Love Life, or the Lack Thereof

This weekend Andy and I placed a bet with each other that I have every intention of trying to lose. We were eating breakfast with his kids on Saturday morning after a rain strangled opening day ceremony when the topic of marriage came up (don't ask me how, we're dudes. We hardly share these touchy feely subjects, so we were probably talking about super models or something ;) Andy predicted that I would be married within 2 years and I said, "I'll take that action." A bet was made, though no terms were actually set. This, too, is the way of guys.

I am fairly confident that two years from now I will be no closer to marriage than I am now. I have never understood the whole concept of dating. I understand that there is a scientific name for people who have no interest in sex, one predilection or the other. I don't belong in that category. I am just as interested in sex as the next guy - and for those of you keeping score; with women. But when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex in a romantic fashion, I'm afraid my genes are very recessive in this area.

I discovered romance at a very early age. I like the whole concept of love. I like the idea of being in love. I like the idea of cherishing a partner and wanting to spend the rest of my life with them. I like the idea of not being able to breathe when they walk into a room. I like the idea of suddenly bursting into song at their appearance. I am a romantic. I always have been. But I'm not an outwardly romantic person and when it comes to women, mostly I'm a disaster.

When I was in fifth grade I fancied a girl in my class named Lisa. I went to my Mom for advice and she told me to make a card for her and tell her how I felt (I have never asked her for advice since then... ;) Lisa took the card - didn't say anything - and then showed it to all of her school friends during the rest of the school day. All day long I had to hear their laughter of derision and the looks of contempt.

I didn't even look at girls again until High School. I was just starting to think that perhaps I'd missed out on this whole adolescent hormone phase when I met Erin. I came down with a mad crush on Erin. She was a lot more gentle with me than Lisa had been, but the looks of contempt continued.

Fortunately, right after that, I fell madly in love with Karen, and she fell in love with me. I wouldn't say that that was a normal love affair - but it was a love affair. We stayed a couple for six years, but while I wanted it to become more, she was content with what we had and finally, we had just grown too far apart. One New Year's Eve, she was supposed to come over to my apartment and she never did. I only saw her once more - three months later - when she stopped by my work to explain to me why she had decided not to show up that night.

After Karen, I sort of descended into a deep fog. I was confused about this whole concept of love. And I didn't know what it all meant. I wasn't sure if I was defective. But I was fairly certain that I had had success before, so, I would have success again. There was another girl out there for me. I just had to remain positive and keep looking.

I met Amy a few years later and loved her as a good friend. She helped pull me out of the fog and reminded me that I didn't need a girlfriend to have a life. After that, I went off to college. I dated a girl on the internet. When we met in real life, I got those looks of contempt again. But by that point, I didn't care. All of my other dates since then have been utter disasters - not a one has lasted more than an hour.

So, it must be me, right? I've never understood the whole concept of dating in the first place. When you go watch a basketball game, you see players that have played the game their whole entire lives. They've practiced. They've played. They've gotten to know the game and all the nuances and all of the intricicies of the game. They love the game. Watching a basketball game to me is like watching love in motion. Its teamwork. Its passion. Its scoring. Its ups and downs. Its time outs. Dating, to me, is like the half time show where some unlucky shlob has one shot to make a half court basket for a million dollars, without warm up or practice. You have no idea if he could be the greatest player since Michael Jordan... unless he makes that one shot.

I wish Andy luck on his wager. I really do. The romantic in me likes to be in love. It likes the energy and the entire concept. But the realist in me says that these things are out of my hands. I've never been a masochist and since more times than I can count instead of an intriguing smile I've received a look of contempt, I'd just as soon stay home and watch romance on TV and try to remember what it was like. I don't need the aggravation. But I'm always willing to try. So, good luck Andy. But I think you'll be owing me a case of beer in 728 Days. Sorry. But that was really a sucker's bet.