New Year's Resolution.

I don’t have one. Didn’t bother to think up one and don’t care to think up one. Due to my continuing struggle with Crohns I’ve already accomplished the most popular resolution of losing weight. I currently weigh 167 pounds, which is even below the Army standard of 175 pounds according to my height. It may not be a big deal to the average person but considering I’ve been an avid bodybuilder since 16 and my average body weight has always been at least 190 pounds a loss of 23 pounds, mostly muscle, is drastic to me. But my bout with Crohns isn’t what this entry is about.

Three weeks before New Year’s Eve came around I was dating three different women. Carla, a dental hygenist, Arlene, a teacher, and Mirisol, a recent graduate with a Masters in education and working odd jobs until she can find gainful employment. Carla is a very sweet 40-year-old Dominican woman with long dark hair and classical mediterranian features. She’s down to Earth, affectionate, and has the sexual appetite of the Energizer bunny. The down side was she had the mentality of a 12-year-old child. She lived vicariously through me, living in suspended animation and waiting by the phone for me to let her know when we would go out on another date. She was a peaceful soul and we got along very well but we had absolutely nothing in common other than dancing and drinking Mojitos. 

Arlene is white, 45 and recently divorced with three kids. She’s an Earthy, layed back, erudite woman that would look out of place in a classroom with her wirey supermodel frame, Farrah Fawcett facial features, contemporary hippy attire, and wild, short blonde hair. All three of her kids attend affluent fine arts schools and she gives them nothing less than 100%. Right off the bat you’d think there would be no time for dating right? Well, not necessarily. We went out a couple of times but what really hinders us from taking our relationship any further is the fact that  I don’t want a ready made family and the fact that she doesn’t really want to cross racial lines.

Out of the three, Mirisol, a young 27-year-old, vibrant, energetic woman newly arrived from Puerto Rico, was the most promising out of the three or so I thought. standing at only 4’11” she was the cutest little babydoll with a cute little button nose, bright smile, the tiniest hands, and a deep thickly accented voice that would seem to be better suited to a much taller woman. Of all the women I’ve dated Mirisol was the only one that boldly resisted my charm yet was intrigued with dating me. Several dates and we still hadn’t even kissed. This pleased me all the more considering I had always wanted to be in a relationship that wasn’t based on sex yet I didn’t have the willpower to follow through. I know what you’re thinking: “Romulus, you’re getting played.” Nope. Except for a chocolate milkshake, which we shared, I didn’t spend one red cent on her and she wouldn’t let me. We had a lot in common from politics to religion to goals and aspirations. Each date was better than the last as she slowly let down her guard and went from a more conservative look to a more alluring style of dress, and she even began wearing perfume. I felt like I was in a time warp and living in the 50’s - instead of ending up back at  my condo for a little extracurricular activity we would spend evenings in the bookstore reading or window shopping and talk about friends, family, and how much we miss home.

Still, all along my sixth sense was scratching and clawing in the back of my mind. This is too good to be true. You see, my experience in dealing with shadey women they all had the same M.O. Whether we were intimately involved or not they all tried their damndest to portray themselves as perfect wifey material when in actuality they were quite the opposite. The down side was she worked two jobs, so we rarely saw each other. Nevertheless, I kept thinking to myself she couldn’t keep this facade up, so I played along to wait for the other shoe to drop. Like my great grandmama used to say: “There’s a dead cat on the line somewhere”, and sure enough a mere figure of speech came to fruition. Four red flags reared their ugly heads: Flag #1 was Mirisol and I spending less and less time together. Flag #2 popped up when we began playing a lot of phone tag. Flag #3 popped up when she all of a sudden decided her cellphone always had to be off. Flag #4 finally came up when she broke our last date without even calling.

Just as sure as she had her so-called legitimate excuses for not answering her phone or her constantly fluctuating job schedule keeping her from spending quality time with me I continued dating Arlene and Carla. After all, we hadn’t had the talk yet nor was she showing any signs of wanting to be serious, so why should I become celibate as a monk when 90% of Mirisol’s time was unaccounted for? Yeah I know exactly what you’re thinking: I’m the typical player that’s afraid of getting played. Wrong again. My ace in the hole was Mirisol’s friend, Avela. Avela is the sincere, honest, and caring woman that played match maker and brought Mirisol and I together. After several failed attempts to fish for clues as to whether I had an idea of what was going on with Mirisol, Avela finally divulged the truth. Mirisol depended on her roomate, her best friend that came with her from Puerto Rico, to help with the rent and utilities. When her best friend had decided to go back to Puerto Rico, she was stuck with a rent she couldn’t handle on her own.

Avela proceeded to tell me  Mirisol was dating several other older men, pimping them for cash to cover her rent and utilities with. This explained all the red flags. Though I wasn’t surprised I was thoroughly disappointed. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back, which arbitrarily lead to my inadvertent New Year’s resolution.

I had three opportunities for a date to bring in the new year. Even a somewhat old flame, Megan, texted me Christmas Day. She misses me and wants to get back together but after reflecting on the relationships I zipped through in 2007 I decided to shut it all down New Year’s Eve. I bought a bottle of champagne and brought in the new year by myself. With post grad school just around the corner I just don’t want to be bothered. I refuse to go through the same issues I went through when I dated while trying to finish my Masters degree and I sure as hell won’t have the time to be bothered when I start the doctoral program in leadership.

I don’t look at it so much as putting women on the back burner as much as not putting up with the foolishness anymore. For most of my adult life I put up with females with various issues and shortcomings because I wanted to be fair and nonjudgmental but in doing so it became a double-edged sword. The desired companionship was tainted by women’s’ insecurity, low self-esteem, low self-worth, and misplaced priorities or lack thereof.