the mantra

At a recent show, someone asked me about Eve. They remarked that my so-called "best friend" hadn't been to any of my shows lately.

I was in a foul mood, due to exhaustion and over-partying, so my response was mean and embittered:

"Funny you should ask about her. After branding me a racist and a sexist, insinuating that I was trying to knock her up and all sorts of other delusional bullcrap, she decided that she needed to make up for her lost childhood-- you know, the one she spent getting high on speed with her boyfriend of nine years?"

The person walked away from me slowly, a worried look upon their face.

I'm not so mad about it now. Time has weathered the blows, the rejection, the humiliation (all for a second time, mind you-- this is not the first time Eve and I have traversed these paths) and all I can say is this:

It was nice while it lasted, and I got what I wanted.


*/*


It sounds like a case of sour grapes on my part, but please hear me out.

That philosophy arose from one of the last meaningful relationships I had, way back in 2000.

Jeanie was a girl with whom I met and had a summer fling. She was my next-door neighbor in the Sherman Oaks apartment complex where we both lived.

At the age of 28 (the same age as me at the time) Jeanie was serious about making a go of it, and I was (as usual) not interested in anything other than eating, drinking, fucking, and smoking.

When she caught on to the fact that I had no intention of marrying her, she left me. It was hard on the both of us, but eventually I found a mantra to help get me through the pain.

It was nice while it lasted, and I got what I wanted.

It sounds shallow, detached, perhaps even cynical. But I didn't choose to be put in this situation. For me, the mantra is more of a coping mechanism than anything else.

I could've gone on this way (with both Jeanie and Eve) for as long as possible; they were the ones who demanded definite answers and gave me ultimatums.

Then, when I was revealed to be the commitment-phobe that I am, they both made it seem like I was the one who wanted to settle down.

Whatever. The proof is in the pudding: Both of them went on to steady relationships with potential, while I still play the field.

It was nice while it lasted, and I'm still getting what I want.


*/*


But is this really what I want?

What is the alternative? And why was I getting so depressed over all the news earlier this year concerning my exes and their marriages and their newly-birthed children? Why was that stuff getting me down?

I didn't know the answer, but now I know: I was bummed because for the first time ever it occurred to me that maybe those girls had once thought of me as both marriage AND father material.

Granted, I knew these girls when we were all in our teens. Marriage and parenthood and settling down were faraway goals then, not to be reckoned with for some time. I doubt that they saw a future in me.

But then again, maybe they did.

As outlandish as it sounds, there's also some truth to the notion that women foster their dreams of getting hitched and starting up the homestead far earlier than men.

And I never wanted to believe that I could ever be considered that kind of candidate. It is far easier for me to think of myself as a cad, a scoundrel, a womanizer and a user of fair maidens.

To come to terms with the idea that I may have been wanted, at one time, by someone who saw potential in me, potential that I can never see in myself... it is frightening.

Hearing about all those girls and how they now have kids with good husbands... it made me insane, but not out of jealousy. It made me angry, because it seemed as if they were always certain about what they wanted out of life, and that the choices I've made have been wrong.

But I know, deep down inside, I know that the choices I've made in my life are the only choices I could ever make.

I know that I could never be a good father, or a good husband. I know this. I know these things to be true.

I just wish people would stop reminding me that I am useless in regards to domesticity. And hearing about an ex-girlfriend and her fertile offspring nails that point home with me.

I know myself enough to know that I would've regretted making such commitments. I would've longed to be set free, and I would've left the wife/mother of my children, just like so many wayward, absent fathers have done to their families.

So the answer to the question "Is bachelorhood really what I want" is a loud and resounding "YES".

If I answer any other way, it's because I am under the influence of something more persuasive than a drug.

I think you all know what I am referring to...


*/*


All I wanted from Eve was closure.

I got it.

Now I can see her on the street and not get upset about the whole Sharky episode. I got my apology from her, even if she didn't really mean it and I had to force her to give it to me.

During the last two years, I got some sex, some food, some gifts, some love and affection, kind words, and even a laugh or two.

That's all you can expect from this world. I know plenty of guys who haven't had anything resembling that in the past decade, so I guess I am fortunate.

It won't be the last time that a beautiful woman does that for me either. I am still young, I am still ready to take on the world.

I didn't get everything I wanted from her, but that's because if you give me an inch I'll go for the entire foot.

The mantra is true.

It was nice while it lasted, and I got what I wanted.

Now to move on to other things. There are more instances of closure that need to happen in my life regarding other women.

I think the cuts and bruises I incurred from this last go-round have healed.

Time to get back to work.