Sunday, November 1, 2009

Why I prefer crime dramas (lots of rambling)

Shortest answer?
They don't make me cry.

Almost any time I watch a standard primetime dramatic television series. I cry. Regularly. Last week I cried at Private Practice and I don't even watch the freakin show!

If I linger at mom and dad's on Sunday nights after Three Rivers (my only exception to this rule, and primarily an exception because of Alex O'Loughlin) I end up crying at Brothers and Sisters.

Yes, I'm a soft touch. No, it doesn't often take all that much to make me cry. Yes, it's easier if I'm tired or worn out.

A few weeks back I cried at Private Practice because Violet was giving the boyfriend guy the baby because she couldn't bond with her newborn. Here's the twist for me. I start crying because all I can think is that I may never even get the option to bond with a baby.

I cried on my way home one night because someone on one of the shows was in love. And he had professed something lovely and endearing and, yes, likely improbable in real life. But I'm not even sure any of the guys I have ever dated have professed anything eloquent enough to be put down in writing, clearly nothing worth committing to memory.

I cried tonight because i very suddenly and very deeply felt forgotten.

I am feeling invisible again. And it's been awhile, so it's kind of fresh right now.
I feel left out
left behind
cast aside
used up
not worth your time
or effort
or concern


and I know that it is mostly untrue.

I know, in my mind, that I have good friends. And people who love me. Family who love me. So so so many kids who not only love me .... they love me unconditionally. They love me solely for showing up!

I posted a lovely post last night about contentment and peace and being full. And it was true then. And it will be true again.

Tonight I thought "I have 271 friends on facebook, and only one person thought to invite me to any Halloween 'festivities'. " Only one.

We did a personality profile at church awhile back. And I'm the type of person who absolutely thrives on parties and fun and social butterfly etc etc etc. So, any time, and I mean pretty much any time I hear that there is fun to be had or there was fun to be had and I wasn't or aren't invited, it makes me a bit sad.

But here's the thing ...
Tonight, I'm not sad because there was 'fun' out there to be had and I wasn't invited. I had a lovely evening. I got exactly what I needed, and I'm fine with that. What makes me sad, Is that I came home to an empty apartment with two fish again. I went to bed alone, again. I got up and made myself coffee, alone, again. Tonight I came home, to an empty apartment with two fish, again.

For someone who thrives in groups and with people, you would be absolutely stunned to realize how much time I spend alone. I have been fully single for 7 years. I have lived fully alone for over 2 years.

I am absolutely aware how ridiculous this sounds, but I see this lovely man on Three Rivers tell his wife how much he loves her. And she says how much she loves him. But they both refuse to make any concessions or compromises to be together and make their marriage work. And I think "I would do anythingto make that work if a good and decent man loved me like that. ANYTHING."

And I'm worried that it doesn't matter. Because the odds are stacked against me 2:3. Did you know that? I read that the other day. In an average church there are 3 single women to every 2 single men. And if I allow myself to consider any factors other than God's own Divine Providence and Intervention, then I am almost always going to come out last among those 3.

"You only get one chance to make a first impression." I have come to hate that phrase. I can only hope that I get to smile at you before you notice the rest of me. I can only hope that my first impression focuses on my laughter
or smile
or eyes
or earrings
or hair
.... or shoes! Because I am nearly convinced that if you notice anything in between first, then you're outta there. And I know that's not fair. But it feels like the truth of my world.

And I'd rather not be reminded. I'd rather not see "people" give up on love. I'd rather not see "people" fall in love. Or have babies.

And I'd rather not hear how great my life is compared to yours. And I'd rather not hear how I ought to use this time to prepare. And I'd rather not hear how the 'right' man will come along. Or the 'right' man won't notice those things in between my earrings and my shoes. I'd rather not hear how glad I ought to be that I'm not married to this guy or that guy or her husband or hers.

I'd rather immerse myself in 'reality' TV. And fringe science with incredibly bizarre and creepy theories and experiments. And a world where everyone had a vision of their future 6 months from now and they're all trying to figure out what it means. And a crime lab where they all get along pretty well, and they solve crimes 25 out of 26 shows.

I'd rather distract myself with those, than remind myself that I'm going to post this, get a glass of milk, and go to bed,

1 comment:

  1. I totally and completely understand. (Well, except that bit about thriving on parties. Lots of people? And I don't know all of them? NO THANK YOU.) And since I understand, I have no tired, overused and completely unhelpful cliches for you. We both know that the days when you feel happy and hopeful will come and more of these crappy feeling alone days will come and pretty much all you can do is enjoy the good ones and hope that they outnumber the bad. And that you'll be less alone very, very soon.