You Come Regular Like Seasons

A few years back, in an attempt to make sense of our emotional well being, one of my best friends and I came up with a vocabulary of relationships. Noting that both of us were/are not the pinnacle of healthy interactions with the opposite sex only fueled our conversation as we sat for hours drinking strong martini's and listening to The Cure.

We didn't figure out much that night, other than 100 proof vodka is not the way to go, but we did come up with some ways to define certain points and men in our lives. I have always felt these to be universal feelings and maybe you don't use these exact words to define who they are, but I can almost guarantee you will know that man within five seconds of reading our definitions.

My "ism" is from high school. We met in 1993 which was a rough year for me, as it seemed all my angst rolled into one big pretty ball right at that moment. We worked together and literally, for 13 years, we have done this dance. It never is right. One of us has someone, lives someplace else, is working too much, is doing a PhD, is tired of love, is getting divorce, has a baby. You know the list, it goes on. He pops up out of no where, the email showing up on my account, my heart aching with forgotten memories. I have his number in my cell phone but we haven't talked in years. His pictures are buried in my box of forgotteness, my picture is still in his wallet.

We haven't kissed since 1995. I saw him in 2004, right after my husband and I had made the decision to get a divorce. I was living back in my home state, he was visiting his parents. We went and ate Mexican food and drank beer at a dive little place in downtown. We held hands under the table and talked about all the things we had done wrong. I drove him back to his fathers house and we sat in my car, holding each other, appropriately enough listening to Wilco, both knowing nothing would happen this time either. That was the last time I saw him. We have shared a smattering of emails, no more lost wishes. There are lots of guys I have been with in more intimate ways than he and I have shared. Hearing from him makes my heart go into my mouth. I never want to be with him, I know it would never work. The comfort I have is always knowing he is there, even when it doesn't matter.

Oddly enough, my ism isn't the next issue I have. I think every woman has a weakness, that one guy that no matter how happy you are in your relationship, no matter how much he has hurt you before, you see him and in one second your panties are around your ankles and you are up against the wall. Ok, maybe the panties are a bit much, but I think we all know what I am talking about: your kryptonite.

He is the guy that is way tall, with dark hair and deep set dark eyes. He wears a baseball cap, a lot, and a black pea coat. His cords hang on his narrow hips and when he stretches, you see the tops of his boxer shorts slightly elevated above his belt. His six pack abs stun you. He is quiet, likes to camp and hike and even has a chocolate lab. He drives a car with racks on top and listens to Radiohead through his iPod at his desk. He blushes and hardly makes eye contact. He works doing things that make other peoples lives better. You have dated him a lot, worked with him, slept with him, made out with him, met his mother, been to his niece's soccer game and spent nights curled up in his arms. He is the one with the passion that scared you, who broke your heart, not once but ten times. He always comes back and every time he touches you, it races through you head, not this time, I really can't. But you do, and you remember how it feels, to have him close, to feel that passion, to know the heartache that will come with it all. For one moment, when your lips first touch, when his hand glides up your spine, when you give in, you know you can't let it happen again, but you never learn. You push away, make up excuses, hurt to look at him, but it is done. You have fought off his overbearing man powers one more time. At least until the next time.

I think as women we all have the ism and the kyrptonite that tie us down. They aren't the ones we spend the rest of our lives with, but that is ok. The ones we are with are the ones who are our lobsters.