Of all the men I’ve ever dallied with, there were only two I could see myself happily married to. Snickers, with whom I had almost nothing in common but a love deep enough to withstand our differences, and another we’ll call Jada (so named because my sister thinks he looks like Jadakiss. He doesn’t.) with whom I’ve never been able to get a relationship off the ground.
On paper and in person, Jada and I are a near-perfect match. We come from similar cultural backgrounds, have similar values. We have the same taste in TV – excluding his fondness for wrestling and including an inexplicable affection for the shitty-ass Raptors. We have the same insane squeamishness, the same taste in hip hop, and a firm belief that marriage would be better if we lived in different houses. We managed to achieve first-time sex that was both sublime and skeevy (back when I did not consider skeevy to be a good thing) and we both have a hearty appreciation for solitude. By all rights, Jada should be Mr. Max.
Like I said though, in the 11 years that we’ve been dallying with each other, we’ve never been able to get things off the ground. If you asked Jada why that is, he would probably say something like we just never wanted the same thing at the same time. He’s quite the diplomat, this guy. But for me the answer is much more complex.
It may have something to do with the way we met. Outside the bathroom of a club (yes he waited outside the bathroom for me to come out and no he will probably not appreciate me telling you guys this) in some random town neither of us lived in. We chatted off and on through the night and at the end of it he asked me for my number. And never called me. One year later we met again at another club where we again chatted throughout the night and I again gave him my number (I was young and foolish) and he again did not call. Fast forward another year and I run into him again, again spend the night talking to him on and off, leave the party with him and give him my number. That time he called though. I guess some times all it takes is a little pussy to make things stick.
At any rate, despite a beginning that pretty much ensured failure, the bizarre little dalliance between Jada and I has flourished. Yes he has done some epic bullshit to me and yes we have gone months on end without speaking, but when we do talk it’s great. I love talking to him and I can tell he loves talking to me too. Because we don’t see each other often I still get all fluttery and nervous around him. When he does things to annoy him and I go off on him he takes it like a champ and continues to do it anyway.
Despite over ten years of really liking each other, despite marriage pacts and epic sex and even more epic conversation, things between Jada and I have never even come close to progressing to so much as an unrelationship. We drift in and out of this pattern of long, meandering frequent conversations for a few weeks, followed by some bullshit going down, followed by months of silence until he calls me out of the blue and the whole thing starts again.
At this point in time I’ve accepted the fact that it is what it is with Jada and it’s not going to be any more. I enjoy him immensely when he’s around and figure he’ll be back when he’s gone. And even though it would make the most amazing happy ending, I’ve stopped daydreaming about the day when something magically clicks into place and we each realize that the other is the one we’ve been waiting for all our lives. I know exactly what it is and exactly where it’s going.
But I do wonder two things – why do we even bother with each other anymore? If you can’t use a stronger word than “dalliance” to describe us, why is it tenacious to last so long? Are the absences carrying us through (my answer) or is the longevity a testament of our affection for each other (his answer)? And why – for the love of God WHY – is someone who is hot and smart and funny and squeamish and solitary and likes hip hop and the Raptors and loves talking to me NOT meant to be Mr. Max? Why?
So, dear readers, what do you think is the tie that binds me with Mr. Should-be Right? Do you think there’s hope for us or should we cut our losses and go our separate ways? Are we using each other as a way to avoid getting close to other people? Do you have a Mr./Ms. Should-be Right yourself? Speak your piece in the comments.