All the Single Ladies

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All the Single Ladies

It's when you start being melodramatic 100% of the time and your friends do nothing but roll their eyes as you wail about the impermanence of love. Save for major family or health traumas, breakups are the worst thing in the entire world. And I don't care even a little bit how trite that sounds, because I am currently the epitome of an angst-ridden lesbian, and I'm gonna work it out.

Sometimes you break up with your girlfriend of two years in the middle of the night. Sometimes you start fucking someone else immediately to numb the pain. Sometimes you then try to get your ex-girlfriend back. And sometimes you douse yourself in foul perfume when you're home alone (aka what I just did), and don't know why you did it.

Ugh. Lesbians. We become emotionally dependent and standby helplessly as the love we once forged morphs into a monotonous burden. Most of us are escapists, so we romanticize how the otherness of any situation would be better than the situation we're currently in. If only I switched jobs, we think. If only I had arms like Jackie Warner. If only my girlfriend didn't smoke cigarettes and listen to house music every night while bragging about her sneaker collection.

 

You know the drill. You think that you can pin your discontent and unhappiness on something outside of yourself, then you can make a tidy little change and everything will fall into place. You'll feel permanently elated, vivacious and fulfilled. No. 

Last week, I splayed myself out on Diana Cage's floor and whined about betrayal and regret. As I've attempted to recuperate from my most recent breakup, I've enacted every breakup cliche in the book. My ex-girlfriend and I didn't speak for a while and started furiously humping other people (me, a bearded transman, her, a Teddy Graham-sized Latina with tits the size of beanbag chairs). We cried and started fucking each other again. She wrote a song about me that made me cry some more. We called each other names and took turns storming off in a huff. We apologized, spooned each other, and said maybe we'd work it out.  We got drunk and romanticized our relationship. We got drunk and remembered why we fell in love in the first place. We actively resented each other. We held hands and felt the ice begin to melt again. 

Then there were changes. She organized a weekly "boys night," bought her first suit and started dressing better. I started running and writing again. We rediscovered abandoned friendships and started going out more. We slammed the people the other was dating in petty, embarrassing ways (me: "She has no lips, no neck, wears pigtail buns and bootcut jeans!" her: "There's NO WAY his dick is bigger than mine!").

Obviously we know that breaking up is hard to do (mentioned briefly by Neil Sedaka in his beloved 1962 hit, "Breaking Up is Hard to Do"). Some people are able to tear the Band-aid off quickly: "It's done, it hurts, onwards and upwards." Then there are people like me, who write self-pitying tirades about gay woe. For those of my ilk — can our ludicrous tendencies be dismissed as mere masochism? Where does one find strength? And why do I think it's okay to ponder age-old mysteries, armed with the emotional maturity of Justin Bieber?  

 

Here's what I know for sure: it takes everything in me to not fill the void with a VixSkin cock, strapped to the body of some forgettable butch who I barely know. Quick-fix remedies are spiritually toxic and ultimately unsatisfying — like giving your ego a sloppy handjob — but they're my knee-jerk reaction to this self-imposed chaos.



Comments [20]

Lake's picture

Thanks for stepping...

into the mind of the lesbian relationship.....wish I had the answers to the mystery...maybe I don't want the answers!

I'm tired of my knee jerk reactions.....let me know if you figure out how to stop them!

Big hugs! 

Hey there  is nothing wrong with a nice strap-on!!!  I'm just saying!!! Wink

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbad22CKlB4

Lake

SMBrown's picture

So sorry for your pain, but

So sorry for your pain, but oh-so grateful for your blog!

Calogero's picture

It’s not masochism

Ok it kind of is, but it’s a rational process that some of us must go through. Or at least that’s what I told myself last time.
From screwing anyone within reach to spending days sitting in a dark room listening to, or better yet writing extremely bad ‘love gone wrong’ songs. We all have a process (admittedly, dousing yourself in foul smelling perfume is a new one on me).

Though I know that quick fix remedies are toxic, whether I give in to them or not usually depends on how long we were together (I’m not even going to attempt to define ‘long’ because, well, Lesbians have a whole other sense of time when it comes to relationships).

As for finding strength, who knows? you’re writing again (which is great news for us) I think that’s a step in the right direction. Or you could dye your hair black, change your attire and find a bunch of Goth’s to hang with.
I once tried practicing a new religion, sobriety, complete celibacy and going to the gym everyday for 14 months after an acrimonious break up. And I don’t recommend it to anyone, it sucked…

But what do I know? I’m slightly intoxicated, none of this is helping how you feel right now and it’s past my bedtime.

" Teachers teach and do the world good, Kings just rule and most are never understood "

SMBrown's picture

That was pretty darn

That was pretty darn articulate for being 'slightly intoxicated.'  Hope there's no hangover in the morning... Wink

Good to see you in the Park again!

Calogero's picture

Thanks

It's good to be back!

I sort of hoped there would be no hangover too...

Had I gone to bed when I wrote that, I'd probably be in a more productive state than I am right now and my colleagues might possibly stop telling me how much I resemble death. Oh well...

" Teachers teach and do the world good, Kings just rule and most are never understood "

googooLS123's picture

I am obsessed with this

I am obsessed with this entire post.

LisaLisa's picture

.

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LisaLisa's picture

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Tex's picture

Pleading the 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th.....5,4,3,2,1 are long gone

I refuse to comment on the grounds that what I say may 'self-incriminate' me.

Twitter Time @kdhales

KL's picture

ha!

everything i write is self-incriminating

Lots of love.

Tex's picture

Edit for below comment to KL....if needed

The "screw you" was in no way directed toward you.....well, if you were a wee bit older and I was a wee bit younger.....oh heck, you know what I mean. Anyway, I enjoyed the blog....sorry for your sorrow. I do have a question though.....later

Twitter Time @kdhales

karrr's picture

tex, where's that garden?

tex, where's that garden?

Tex's picture

Calverley Park Gardens

Turnbridge Wells, Kent, England......

Twitter Time @kdhales

Tex's picture

Big smooch!

I'm thinking I probably shouldn't write due to my mood today. My first twitter of the day was:

Hallmark is missing out.....they should have a "screw you" section

Smile

Twitter Time @kdhales

Conlite's picture

That is the best business

That is the best business idea I have heard in a long time!

Hope things are better for you by the end of the day.  Smile

Tex's picture

Better now....

thanks, C-Lite! 

Twitter Time @kdhales

minniesota's picture

Heartaches by the number

This reminds me of that old Country song, "Heartaches by the Number:"

Now I've got heartaches by the number,
Troubles by the score,
Every day you love me less,
Each day I love you more,
Yes, I've got heartaches by the number,
A love that I can't win,
But the day that I stop counting,
That's the day my world will end.

Still searching for the right brainy quote.

Calogero's picture

Serving it’s purpose

9 times out of 10 they make me feel miles worse than before. But there is nothing like a good old country song to elucidate one’s feelings when newly single.

That said, despite it’s lyrics "heartaches by the number" is often sung in too much of a happy tone for my liking!

 

 

" Teachers teach and do the world good, Kings just rule and most are never understood "

Grace Moon's picture

singing

to the choir... or is it preaching to the converted?

this is like the classic lesbian breakup archtype, although character, clothing, hair-style and gender may change.

tweet tweet @gracemoon

geek4grammar's picture

aw, sigh...

you don't need permission to ponder the age-old mysteries, honey. you may not attain full enlightenment whilst armed with the emotional maturity of justin bieber, but we all have the right to feel what we feel and wonder what it's all about. that's life, and there's no escape-- not really. and yeah, I'm another typical escapist (tho I didn't know this was a lezzie trait-- thought it was cause I'm a pisces), but I think that's okay, too...some of us need more time to lick our wounds than others. As long as you don't live there, i.e., in a secluded little shell that you never leave, it's just part of your process, and that's cool. Just remember to keep coming up for air Wink

We're all born naked. The rest is drag.
--RuPaul (appropriating Judith Butler for the masses...)