Punk Rock And Beer And Not Getting Married

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How the hell did I end up here? I really am not too sure. In fact I have been spending increasing amounts of time trying to figure it out. I mean, I never wanted to get married before I was thirty… but 42?!??!?!?!?

Yeah, I guess this is another part of ‘the story so far.’ The fact that I am still single. Well, I don’t know why. I used to be that guy who always had a girlfriend. I was never single. I was happy, but it never lasted. Mostly it was me, sometimes it was them. Doing the breaking up that is. I always thought I would find the one and end up you know, happily ever after. Or something.

And then I got to 35 and I wasn’t and it didn’t.

Look, I have been out (long term) with some amazing women. And I have been out with some shockers. Somewhere along the line I guess I shutoff. I gave up. Not on the people. On the idea. And then I guess I became THAT guy. The single guy, the player, the commitment phobe. Except I was always hoping someone would come along… but they never did. Or if they did I wasn’t looking or something. Somehow. I don’t know how that coulda happened. But it might have.

Still in that time I got a lot of ‘let’s just be friends’ speeches. Or the classic, ‘You’re too nice, I can’t see you, I’d walk all over you’ speech. And I gave a lot of, ‘I like you but I don’t want a relationship’ speeches. Two sides of the same coin. If I liked them, they didn’t want to be with me. If they liked me, I didn’t want to be with them.

In the early days it was easy to explain. I drank too much, I was more into what I thought I was doing than in conforming to something as normal as getting married. Now? Now I am a product of those years and even though I wear the badges, I am more than just that.  And more, I am over it. I don’t care about punk rock and rock n roll and all that stuff anymore. I just want to be. I want someone who can just be… who ‘is’ in the way that I have started to be.

I am reluctant to blame the bad experiences, my parents… all the usual crap. After all has been analysed and shredded to bits through whatever microscope you prefer, I still feel that I just haven’t found THE ONE. Or realised it. (or maybe they didn’t recognise me?) Oh Jesus, did I just type that? But yeah. And not ‘The One’ as in the perfect being who has always been there, but the one that fits me right now.

I get asked this all the time: How come you aren’t married?
Cos I am not.
What do you want me to say? Because I am a jerk?

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