Chutes and Lad-Her's

A few emails have popped up in my inbox asking me, "Are you really as okay as you sound in your response?"; referring to when my ex girlfriend dropped the news on me that she started seeing someone seriously.

To be honest, I'm actually strangely calm about it. This will be the second relationship she has been in since our break up (that's a total of 3 relationships for Lynn, if you're keeping count) and her revealing it to me this time is astronomically better than the first time around!

That being said, am I going to invite her new guy out to join me for a couple of suds, go in for a bro hug, and bond over "Have you tried this one on her?" stories? Probably not. But I meant everything I said to her in my email back to her and I do wish her well.

Lynn and I have talked a couple of times since she informed me about her new relationship. She'll subtly try and slide him into the conversation ("He came over for dinner the other night" or "... and since I'm kind of seeing someone now..."), but I refuse to take the bait. I think that she wants to tell me about him, like any friend would want to when they are still in that honeymoon stage of new relationships.

I'm sure she wants me to ask questions and have me be interested, as any good friend should. But, I just can't bring myself to indulge her and urge her to tell me more about him. I'm still very much an "ignorance is bliss" kinda guy. I'd rather delay for as long as I can the fact that some day, I'll have to eventually learn his name, what he looks like, and all other details until that come with knowing someone.

I mean for this to be a segue to something I've found myself struggling with, these past couple of weeks. I've found myself comparing where I'm at in the romance department with everyone around me. Probably not healthy and I know that I gain nothing from this, but I've discovered that it's force that I can't stop!

For example... Leo, who makes a conscious effort to keep his toe out of the dating pool, gets set up by a friend to a cocktail party with a very attractive girl. A cute blind date (although if you mention the D-word within earshot of Leo, he'll fight it tooth and nail) who he ends up having uninhibited, drunken sex within the very first night of meeting her!

God, I miss drunk sex.

Jack happens to mentions in conversation, that at a party, he made out with a girl in her car. I'm barely able to focus on any of the other details about the party as I am completely baffled how he can be so damn casual about this! To him (and the rest of the world, it seems), it's like a fucking to-do list one would quickly scribble on a notepad on a lazy Sunday afternoon:

1. Pick up milk, eggs, and jar of sweet pickles
   
2. Drop off a package to Aunt Silvia at the post office
   
3. Meet girl at party, follow her to car and make out
   
4. Walk the neighbor's border collie

People are still making out in cars??

God, I miss making out in cars.

And out of complete boredom (and maybe a pinch of masochism), I've clicked through Facebook profiles of my old high school acquaintances and said through gritted teeth, "This fucking guy better not have a cute girlfriend" and when this indeed turns out to be the case, I quickly close out the window in bitter frustration.

I just reread that. I'm disgusted with myself.

I know I'm not being fair to myself by trying to compare where I'm at on the game board of romance to those around me. But, fuck! I keep landing on the damn chutes and everyone else is climbing ladders.

But what we know to be good for us and actually acting on it, often times we find that it isn't a union that comes easy. I'm finding myself more and more obsessed with the "when is it my turn?!" mentality.

"I've paid my dues!" is all I can whine about though. I should be happy that my best friend is breaking his dry spell and sleeping with hot girls on Date One. And good for my buddy Jack for bringing it back to the roots and coppin' a feel in a motor vehicle.

I really am okay with where Lynn is at now. As okay with it as I can be as an ex boyfriend of six years.

I think that when I am steadily seeing someone (or at the very least, having sex consistently!) I will be even more "okay". Maybe even able to have full conversations about it like real friends do.

I just can't do it feeling like I'm such a loser for being so far behind, awkwardly adjusting and readjusting my position in the starting block while she is near the finish line about to enjoy having a giant victory tub of Gatorade poured on her.