Breaking the chain of pain

It was a rule in the household that no one -- at least the girls -- was allowed to date before turning sixteen.  Oh sure, of the five girls in our family I know at least one caused an uproar to change that law. Another may have dated but did so quietly under parental radar.  As for me, I usually adhered to rules rather than cause a ruckus or question authority.  Being the youngest afforded me many lessons learned by proxy.

As a youngin' I always had friends who were male.  That's not an uncommon situation.  Once in junior high school boys became less appealing for friendship and moreso for 'going with'.  Naturally, the family rule of 16 kept me from openly pursuing a boy to date.  I developed crushes.  These would be big crushes on boys who possibly didn't know I was alive let alone like me in return.  But, I'd spend each morning primping in hopes that I'd catch the object of my affections glance.  Even if effective it would have been pointless.  It wasn't permitted and I surely couldn't go behind my parents backs.  Lucky for me there was nothing to fear as no boys approached me with such interest.  I was their friend or someone who was stupid enough to let them copy my spelling homework.

High school rolled around and along with it came new faces and boys who were taller than me. Rule of 16 hung over me like a doomsday cloud.  Crushes came and went. Most lasting longer than necessary.  Because there was not a snowball's chance in hell that I'd sneak around, I managed to become infatuated with boys who were impossible to attain.  They all had girlfriends or were wildly popular; out of my league.  I was a choir geek who still listened to Barry Manilow while Pink Floyd THE WALL was all the rage.  If anyone had a crush on me it wasn't made known.  Over and over this pattern repeated itself.  I was always told that this would help me develop healthier relationships when the time came to date.  That suggestion has proven to be completely untrue.  What seems to have happened is that I gain interest and infatuation with men who are entirely unsuitable or unattainable.  It's seems to have reached addiction proportions. 

I know this makes me look like a complete dipshit and a fool, but this theory came to me while I was doing dishes only minutes ago. I dated a lot in the first part of this decade. I was, for lack of a better term, a serial dater.  In other words, nothing blossomed from a couple of dinners and a movie.  Since I returned to Kankakee in '05 my dating life has been six feet under. There were a couple of mishaps two or three years ago. I wrote about them, naturally.  In that time of dating doom, I have experienced infatuations only experience the familiar sting of unrequited or unrealized feelings.  A couple of them have been long distance. A recipe for failure in this 'must have it now' society.  And one was a long lost love completely and entirely unavailable.  That hurt the most for a myriad of reasons that I can't go into. It just did and now I have to get over it.

This is where a new chapter in my life must begin.  Learning what emotional foolishness has held me back and making certain I do not repeat it again.  Einstein's definition on insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.