I Know You're Out There Private Longings, Public Humiliations, and Other Tales from the Personals

[1] Meant for Each Other SWF LOOKING FOR you, a slim, attractive, kind, honest and generous man who understands the value of hard work, loves his family and hopes to meet a special lady. I bring sweetness and a true heart to the table. Mid-40s or older. Let me hear from you. People like to say it's the little things that'll end a relationship, but those people are amateurs. Being sentenced to prison, excusing oneself to go get cigarettes and never returning, the ill-timed discovery that one's beloved is attracted to another gender or species--those are little things. They are nothing compared to having every single moment of your daily existence--every detail, every gesture, everything you say or do or think--be a point of contention. Let me explain. I am apparently hard to live with. I have been told this, repeatedly. I smoke, I swear, I dress badly, I snore and steal blankets, I make too much noise in the bathroom and forget to flush, I wash whites with darks, and I chew loudly. I inspire neither tender words nor sweet nothings, only criticisms and complaints. Don't leave hair in the sink. Be nice to my mother. For the last time, put the seat down. Sheesh. You'd think the person who's supposed to know me better than anybody wouldn't have so many questions. Why do I always buy yellow mustard when I've been told a million times to get honey dijon? Why do I constantly turn the thermostat down when it's cold outside, and up when it's warm? Why am I so cheap? Why am I so quiet? And why do I look so mad all the time? This is what love can turn into. Pettiness, cruelty, unhappiness, taking little digs at each other, playing cruel mind games and having spats, trotting out every instance of betrayal and hurt in order to score points in a game neither one of us understands or could possibly win. This is what happens after the bliss gets threadbare, as bliss inevitably must. Every word comes out sounding hostile and sarcastic; we can't even clear our throats without one of us demanding to know just what the hell the other one means by that crack. Things are tough at home. We're in our ninth consecutive year of breaking up in the most bitter and unpleasant manner imaginable, a new personal best for me, though I don't feel particularly proud. People can find love and be happy-ever-after, I know this, I've seen it on television and in the movies; I've even had it in my own life. We were happy, at first--playing house, making dinner together, holding hands and talking for hours and hours, blissfully unaware of the time and the disaster that awaited us. But, sadly, the word honeymoon is nearly inevitably, practically always, followed by the word over. Now our mutual unhappiness and inability to actually end this agony are the only aspects of life in which we've proven to be compatible. We're both equally miserable, and we both desperately want to play the victim, we have that in common, but lately it has occurred to me that these are, perhaps, not enough reasons upon which to base a long-term relationship. We know we can't go on like this forever. Fighting has become exhausting and only occasionally exhilarating, and lately the old thrill of raising voices over the gas bill or nearly coming to blows over taking out the garbage is gone. We're in one of those phases where I sleep on the couch--it's been every night for the past two years, by mutual agreement; we may go to bed angry, but at least we get some sleep. In our waking hours, we go on and on, sniping and fighting, every morning and every night. In between, I go to work. At work, all the bad stuff fades away, all the bitterness and hostility and unhappiness. At work, there is love. Love. From nine to five, it's unavoidable. There is love, and romance and passion and hope, and chemistry and rapport and delight, and hot mind-numbing sex so incrBeaumier, Michael is the author of 'I Know You're Out There Private Longings, Public Humiliations, and Other Tales from the Personals' with ISBN 9780307338099 and ISBN 0307338096.