Life dating someone 21 years older than you…

 

….is Fascinating! And so unpredictable.

Ever since I was in sixth grade, I recognized in me an attraction for older men. At this point in my age, I had a massive crush on my dad’s friend, Tully. Tully was in college and was around his early twenties. I knew my age and childlike appearance would never even give Tully a glance. I even thought that when I became an adult, I would still be considered too young for someone that much older than me.

In high school I had no attraction to anyone my own age. In fact, I would vocalize my opinion of boys versus men all the time, and how I could never date a “high school boy.” Ironically later, I would complain about how I was never asked out in high school…probably because I was much too open with my opinions. Hmm…silly me.

I never had much patience for boys because of their immaturity, their inability to get their shit together, and their selfish, childish views on relationships. Of course…this is to be expected of boys because they never really do “grow up” until their mid-30s. At least this is what my dad tells me:

“Don’t expect much from boys in their twenties,” Dad says, “because they don’t know any better yet. Give them a chance when they’re in their thirties or up. That’s when they’ve figured it out…usually.” And he tells me this because he admits that that was how he was in his twenties. Selfish, stubborn, and barely willing to be a team player in a relationship with a girl.

So far I haven’t said anything nice about boys. I want to point out that I have a lot of really great guy-friends. I love them and think they are great people. But I could never see myself in a relationship with them because of their age, both parts physical and mental. I get easily irritated when they don’t have a more mature view on the outside world. But I get irritated at anyone who can’t see outside themselves. It all adds up to how I personally want to be treated in a relationship. With respect, kindness, and thoughtfulness. Maybe my experiences with boys my age have not been very good, so I am jaded with these thoughts.

When I moved to California and began dating the Terminator, I was fascinated by the way he treated me with such caring attention. He was a real gentleman, humble and confident, kind. It took me aback once that he was ten years older than me. At the time, I thought a ten year gap was my limit.

Not anymore.

Now I’m dating a man twenty-one years older than me. And it’s like night and day. Man versus boy. Wildly unpredictable. Which actually makes me uneasy. When dating boys, I know what to expect; I know what they want. But men? There could be so many different things they want and I haven’t figured out the signs yet. With men, I don’t lose my patience, because they’ve got it together. With men, their sense of humor has matured, no longer silly and childish. And the deeper I analyze this, the more it makes sense how I would match better with an older man, than with my own age.

Most of my childhood was spent with adults at Christmas parties, closing show celebrations, fancy dinners with the cast of an opera, etc. I was brought up to be mature at five years old, to sit quietly in a restaurant full of adults drinking, laughing, and talking business.

It is no wonder I have no patience for unruly kids. I can’t stand them and think they should be smacked into maturity. At five, I remember sitting at a booth in a restaurant across from some other kid who kept climbing and whining everywhere. Even at five, I wanted to punch him and tell him to “sit still and shut up, stupid!”

If I do a breakdown comparison, it would go something like this: most boys still haven’t moved out of their mothers’ houses—men have lived alone for a while; boys don’t know where they’re going in life—men have already gone and done it; boys are still learning the ropes on how to have good sex—men have, well, A LOT of experience (they BETTER); boys don’t know quite how to treat girls—men treat them like women.

So I guess you can say I like skipping the boy phase and going straight for the man within.

Understand that my comparisons of boy versus man are simply general and come from personal experiences. I have met mature boys, or young men, and have met very immature older men (pricks, as I like to call them). So, all in all, it’s really based on character preference. And I’m also aware that there are some very stupid and immature girls out there. That’s why there’s a difference between a girl and a woman; a boy and a man. It may have nothing to do with age either, just the way one presents him/herself. I just find the differences fascinating.

Are you an Eponine or a Cosette???

Tell me, girls, do you consider yourself the sweet, charming beauty who can pretty much snag any guy she ever wants, or are you “one of the guys,” the cute but tough chick who can’t, for the life of her, EVER catch the man she wants? If you are, in fact, the beautiful sweetness men sing arias for, then you’re the lovely Cosette.* But if you’re the one nestled in the couch with the rest of the boys playing Nazi Zombies or battling it out in Halo Live, laughing and swearing, and somehow always shoulder to shoulder with the one guy you’d die for, you are, unfortunately, the doomed chick Eponine.Eponine

I am an Eponine dreaming to be a Cosette. I have, for twenty years, had the unfortunate bad habit of falling madly for the guy who will ALWAYS put me in the friend zone. I can remember since I was five years old having obsessions and wishful-thinkings over a particular guy which would last a good amount of years. But instead of him responding back, I got the cannon in the stomach. This is what makes me Eponine. I just haven’t had the chance to sing a “Little Fall of Rain” as I pathetically die in my Dream Guy’s arms. I am not a girl who falls in love easily OR can jump from guy to guy. My feelings, sadly enough, seem to think loyalty will be rewarded even if the loyalty to whom it is given isn’t wanted. I can even name off the guys I had become a glowing idiot for: Mark Pritchard, 1st thru 4th grade; Paul Sims, 4th thru 10th grade (extremely pathetic); James Gastonguay (11th into first years of college).

After James, I had figured out I was stupid for letting myself attach to guys like that. These were also the guys who knew very well that I was crazy for them, but were more interested in punching me playfully in the arm rather than kissing me on the cheek. I wasn’t “chase” worthy, I suppose, because my feelings were too obvious. Since James, I told myself to never let a guy know that I like him too much.

However, I have slipped up in the past year. I have crushed on a few guys and let it be known, and LO AND BEHOLD, they lost interest AGAIN. The only time I’ve ever had success in catching a guy I liked was pretending I didn’t notice them. But that sucks, because as soon as I started to express my love for them, they run off, and to some better, sweet pretty girl named Cosette! as I take the gun shot to the gut once again.

I get a bad feeling I’ll be singing “On My Own” for a good chunk of time. Which, on one hand, isn’t all bad because of my focus on my career. But nobody wants to go it alone for too long. I could always request a character change and go for Lucy (Jekyll and Hyde slut) and hook up to get a fix. But that leads to craziness!…and death.

Ah, challenges are the sweet pieces of life which make this world interesting. And as I come to terms with the reality of my character, I have decided being Eponine is way more fun. I also get the big, show-stopping solo, and I’d rather have that, than a duet. The mystery and adventure of wondering where he is or what he’s doing is always exciting as I crawl into bed dreaming of the day we’ll meet. I believe Eponine did the same before she died. Only she knew where her man was, he was just off doing it with Cosette and MariusCosette. Tough luck. But that’s the fun of it.

Who are you? Are you Cosette with no problems in getting your guy? Or are you Eponine, always dreaming?

* PS-For those of you who don’t know these two lovely ladies, they are the leading women from the musical, Les Miserables. Eponine gets killed with a gun shot wound in the gut as Cosette gets the man of Eponine’s dreams and lives happily ever after.

So you wanna challenge?

I got one!

I’m starting to feel the heat of life. It’s been nine months since I moved from Arizona to California, and the first eight were easy, smooth, controlled, and, honestly, a lot of fun. I had a boyfriend, a job that generally made good money, and beautiful weather. But I wasn’t in any shows yet, which was fine. I think the only patience I have in my strong-willed, stubborn brain is literally reserved for the days when I pretend to be an actor.

But then, in just one month things pop! Near the end of May, I was leaving for my cousin’s wedding in Missouri. On that day, I knew I was recently cast in Cinderella and also got a call announcing that I was approved for Wonder Woman within Six Flags Magic Mountain. Good news, wouldn’t you say? I tell my boyfriend at the time how excited I was and then realized how busy I was going to be. He responded with a very dry, “Good luck.” That marked the first step towards the downhill slope coming my way.

To back track ever-so slightly, I was also on the hunt for a new job. This being because my General Manager was turning everything to hell and I wanted out. Unfortunately, I can’t go anywhere until I have another job lined up.

Back on track—I’m at my cousin’s wedding and I realize just how truly happy she and her husband look. Believe me, I can smell faux-happiness anywhere. Except in myself, funny as that is. So at this point, she tells me to never settle, that he’s out there, that she’s been in many relationships never fully satisfied until this one. This sinks hard into my over-analyzing brain and I leave Missouri with a sour lump in my stomach.

Weeks go by and I still can’t find a job. Nobody’s hiring, or they say they are, put me through two interviews, then never call me again. I go into one place weekly just to see if they have an opening and I’m never able to see a manager. At this point, I feel like a stalker.

“Well at least I have Wonder Woman and Cinderella,” I mutter aimlessly.

Oh wait! Not so! I had been approved by Warner Bros. and DC Comics, but Magic Mountain wouldn’t pick me up. They neglected to set up any interviews or even return my calls. I actually had to drive 40 min. up to Magic Mountain thinking I had an interview scheduled at 1030am to find out they wouldn’t see me until 1230pm. I was so angry because my life is already too busy that I just left. There was no way I was going to sit around for two hours. No way!

So Wonder Woman is out of the picture. On top of this fabulous discovery, my boyfriend and I were having deep conversations. Conversations about calling it quits. And then it happened pretty much in the same week.

So now Terminator is out of the picture. What do I have left? No real close friends, that’s for sure. I spent most of my free time with my relationship, neglecting to work on making any friendships. I actually sobbed one night—obviously with a glass of Merlot nestled tightly in my grasp—and I’m talking a full-gusty meltdown of pathetic gush where I cried to my cat about how “alone” I am and how “I have no friends.” The only thing that could actually sober me up was, shockingly, the Vicodin I took thinking it would put me to a hard sleep. Not so. I was as chill as a popsicle.

Then I could really ponder on what I had left. What was it? Oh yeah! Cinderella and my awful serving job. And the sad thing is, every time I walk into a new restaurant to apply, they all say, “We’d love to hire you! But we need you to have more availability…” Go figure, Cinderella would be the one thing keeping me from escaping my current job.

So as I sit here typing out smoking little letters of impatient frustration…I realize the challenging part of California has finally arrived. I’m either having to fight very hard or submerge myself in utter patience—which I actually fight very hard to do anyway. But I won’t be beaten! My stubbornness would rather kill me. And if Plan A never works, I have plenty of Plan B’s waiting…patiently.

Once upon a time…

…There was a very young girl who liked a very young boy. She’d punch him and shoved him into trees and was so sure he’d know she meant love. But the boy cried, running to the first grade teacher, pointed at the girl, “telling” on her. The girl’s face fell in sadness. She was so sure he knew! And then there was detention. This made the girl very angry, and she vowed to never love the boy again, rather to kick his butt just a little harder next time.boy and girl

As I was growing up, I wanted more than anything to be impervious to emotional pain. I believe most of us strive for this in vain. Because when it comes to relationships, pain is part of the warning label. WARNING: YOU MAY DEVELOP A BROKEN HEART.

As a constant analyzer of human emotional reactions, throughout the years I have examined my closest friends’ relationships, and have been occasionally envious of them. I watched how they showed the most complicated and controversial emotion, love.

First, there was Emm and Jay. The two expressed their love for each other so publicly and so unashamedly it was sickening! And after a year of nearly spending 24/7 with each other, they still seemed stuck in the “honeymoon” phase. In fact, they said the “love you” words to one another within the first week of dating, so who is to say “love at first sight” doesn’t exist.

Then there was Rach and Tony, a tug-o-war sort of relationship. One always being more needy than the other, and when things seemed to be finally leveling out, suddenly the tide would shift and the other person would do all the needing. Always in love, but always unbalanced, grasping at something too far for them to reach.

In my recent couple encounters, I had met a very unique girl and boy called Stunt Gee and Stunt Bee…for they are stunt performers. The two spent nearly every day together for about two years. They were very private with their affections for one another and acted very practical. During one of my conversations with Stunt Gee, she mentioned how she has never said “I love you” to Stunt Bee and believes very strongly that it shouldn’t be thrown out so easily as most people tend to do. She explained to me her viewpoint on the “love emotion” and felt that it should only be said when you mean it. MEANING you will NEVER take it back. Her opinion on love leaned more on the “forever” aspect of things.

I said to her, “Sometimes it feels I’ll never get there.”

She said, “That’s called a broken heart.”

Which leads to me and my new adventures on exploring relationships again. After surviving a fabulously destructive unrequited love relationship, my emotions on love automatically went into full lockdown. This was all subconscious of course, because I honestly didn’t notice myself locking up. That is, until I met the Terminator. I noticed that with such a nice guy, I felt absolutely nothing and wasn’t doing it on purpose. It took a long conversation with my dad, who apparently went through the same lockdown when he was my age, to help me warm up. So I pushed myself into trying love again, allowing it to happen naturally. It was like getting back in the water after nearly drowning to death. I’d been analyzing my every move and emotional response in an attempt to figure myself out, to see if I even knew what being in love felt like. And when I finally decided that I got it, I collected enough courage to whisper it to the Terminator, who, in turn, remained…silent.

So now, after being jealous of my girlfriends’ relationships, how they were all so quick and eager to profess their love and have it returned, after surviving a horrible relationship where the boy never really loved back, then being surrounded by a couple that didn’t believe in saying “I love you,” I find myself not wanting to be involved in the whole mess.

But there’s no getting away from it, not when you decide to get involved with someone else. So I must learn to love happily without being loved in return. Though it sucks! I’d rather take the detention…but not this time. Time to grow up just a little more.

Boys and Girls can’t just be friends…

Unless the boy is gay of course.

I’ve been very stubborn to admit this statement can be true. I mean, come on! I grew up with boys, felt more comfortable with them, and many times considered myself to be one of them. In fact, many of my closest friends were boys. There were a few years here and there where I actually asked my best “guy friend” if he would be my maid of honor (whenever the day would come I would actually get married). We had a good laugh about it. How it would be unheard of. And how I’d better find a husband who wouldn’t mind my bestest friend in the whole world to be another (straight) guy.

I believed I could pull it off having a sans-sexual-tension best friend relationship with the opposite sex. Of course, I always think I can pull anything off, be above and beyond the norm. I was a very stubborn thinker during my teens and to my early twenties. Now that I am nearing my mid-twenties and have attempted to continue this way of thinking, I’ve realized I made a mistake.

Years ago, I saw the film When Harry Met Sally, which is supposed to be a story about two opposite sexes trying to ignore the ultimate sexual attraction they have for one another. They indulge in relationships with other people and keep their best friend relationship. As the movie continues, their friendship gets more complicated (of course!) and lots of random fighting start to sour everything up. Ultimately something needs to change in their friendship, but I’m not going to say what it was in case you haven’t seen the movie. Don’t wanna spoil the ending. 🙂

It’s funny, these platonic relationships. Because someone always seems to be more attracted to the other and has to learn how to control their feelings in case of ruining the comfortable friendship they have (now when I say friendship, I’m talking about really close friendships; best friend status). In most cases, I’ve found that it’s always the guy who starts to feel the sexual tension for his best “female” friend. Usually, for the girl, it never occurs to her unless someone else says something like, “Hey, you guys look cute together…” and only then does the sex idea pop up into her head. Otherwise, usually the girl is completely clueless about her best friend’s attraction to her. Usually.

Where am I going with this? Well, what happens when those two friends start to explore their sexual attraction for one another, all the while trying to stay “just friends?”

Crap happens. The deeper, romantic and complicated feelings start to come out and if the relationship isn’t defined appropriately, the friendship becomes more troublesome and messy than it should be. Everything you once thought was clear becomes cloudy and confusing. And your best friend becomes the source of your problems, instead of the problem solver. There’s no getting away from it, and there’s no sense in denying it.

So what do you do? Seeing as I really don’t have the answer, I’m gonna have to admit that I don’t know. But what I can tell you is to do this: Take a deep breath, count to ten, and wait for the answer to come. You’ll only see it on a clear day.