Dating a Wimp
As a woman I have always been lead to believe that I should find myself a strong virile man to call my own. That he should watch sports, crush beer-cans on his forehead, and only cry when his football team loses the Super Bowl. This stereotype of a man can be hard to find and if I did find him would I really want to date this alpha male? I have dated a few and they have never been able to provide me with anything deeper than a few months of fun. They have always fallen short in providing me with the deep intellectual and emotional support that I crave.
Maybe what I need is the new sensitive man, a man who will hold my hand and discuss his innermost feelings. The guy who will watch "The Notebook" and ask me to pass you the tissues. But, is this man any better than the alpha male? Do I really want to comfort him every time something remotely unsettling happens, isn't that what my girlfriends are for? What am I to do as a modern twenty-something looking for my Mr.Right?
In my relentless quest I recently dated a wimp. At first I thought he was perfect. He seemed sweet, nice, and ready to fall in love. I kept thinking to myself, "How did I get so lucky?" Two months of blissful weekend dates and the words "I love you" were creeping into my head and holding back in order to be somewhat of a "rules girl" became harder and harder. Then, we planned our first weekend away together. The weekend had all the makings of true romance, a beautiful hotel room overlooking the beach, stormy weather perfect for cuddling, and my sensitive man to enjoy it with.
By the end of the weekend I discovered he was afraid of heights, lightening, stingrays, rip tides, walking, basically any sort of fun. I even had to drive his car to and from the beach. As dishearting as this was, I decided that maybe I was being the rough one. Perhaps, I was expecting too much from him, nobody is perfect. My cat knew better.
The next weekend my cat scratched him on his arm leaving a small scratch less than an inch long. I yelled at my cat and then being the nice girlfriend I apoligized and doted on him the appropriate amount of time. The next day, I went to hold his hand and brushed against his arm, this elicited a yelp and complaints of the extreme pain caused by his grevious injury. On a side note: during the period of 6 months that I dated this wimp he went to the doctor for the following ailments, extreme foot pain, MS, liver disease, testicular cyst, dyhydrated disc, shingles, a scratch on his heel, cold, hepititus, gall stones, extreme headaches, and worst of all a disfunctioning penis. Most of which he did not have, but was always in great fear that he did. At one point he can be quoted as saying,"There's no way giving birth can hurt worse than my feet!"
I know you are thinking, why didn't this girl just dump him? I guess the answer would be I was afraid of being that girl, you know the girl who always leaves the super nice guy and ends up with some loser who doesn't care for her. In the end I realized he wasn't a super nice guy, he was a guy who was in constant need of my attention. He played up his ailments and fears because he didn't have anything else interesting enough to keep my attention. Once the initial infatuation wore off there was no deeper connection to keep us together.
I did learn something from my relationship with the wimp. I learned that I need a man who can mow the lawn, check for creepy noises in the night, and jump into the deep end of the pool without fear of drowning. Crying at "The Notebook" is optional, crying after the Super Bowl could be necessary. My next boyfriend, like my next car, will have to be a hybrid. A man to hold me and protect me from the monsters that lurk in the dark.