Monogamy is for the Birds

I've had a theory for a very very very long time that monogamy isn't designed for the human species. Do I defensively shriek that I'm not a goose to a upset partner when busted having a wondering eye? No, because that's just rude and I try very hard to be a good, faithful, loyal girlfriend. (But God and I know that I still think it.)

You see, I've become convinced that upon entering a new relationship you go through various phases of said relationship and after years wondering down lovers lane hand in hand the two of you become complacent, routine trained, boundaryless partners that basically share a couch and the same potato chip bag. *Shudder*

Don't get me wrong I love the ins and outs of trying to co-exist with another human being (and the majority being the male variety). After all I AM a woman. I tend to frolic in the emotional realm far too often than what's really neccesary for any human being, but apparently that's what all these hormones I possess do to a person. Thanks pussy, 'preciate it. As far as the phases go, I share a love/hate relationship with the first phase of a budding relationship. Properly coined "The Honeymoon Phase", we find here everything is blissful, wonderful and amazing on every level. (This is especially true if you find a phenomenal, passionate lover...but there goes my one-track mind again.) But on the flip side, it's still annoyingly nerve-racking and uncertain.

Next, we find ourselves spending more and more time together, going out to eat more often than our pocketbook is comfortable with and becoming a part of each other's daily routine. Don't get me wrong, this isn't bad or wrong or any other negative term I can conjure up. In fact, this part can be loads of fun too! Especially if you're with the right person. ( Unfortunately, for me I have only experienced this once. And I was on a shit ton of drugs, so however much I really truly experienced is up for debate.) But, if you're with the wrong person, then my god this is setting up a person for a long road of boredom or a psuedo-painful breakup. I say psuedo because once the blinders come off you realize what an ass you were for being with that person in the first god damn place AND realize how blissfully happy you are SINGLE! ;p

After this phase it's basically one of two options: Get married or get busy breaking up. Why waste more time not evolving into something more deep, meaningful and committed? Marriage. Such a frightening word. For some it's the dollhouse fantasy they've carried in the back of their mind since they were school age little girls making Ken kiss Barbie. But for gals like me, it's a blinding yellow light that screams: YOUR FREEDOM IS OVER and get prepare to get ungodly fat.

I'm pretty sure I'm the minority in this since I am part of the female species and most girls go goo-goo-ga-ga over David's Bridal every time they drive past it with visions of white wedding dresses and roses dancing in their heads. *Shudder* But for me the idea of your church house wedding, white flowy dresses and bridesmaids all in row makes me nautious. To me, the committment is between you and another person. My vision would be me and my lover in a sweat lodge having some crazy visions together. Boom. "Married fo life".

Okay, let's get real now. The reason I have committment issues is not because I'm some sad, lonely girl that doesn't believe in love. I believe in it. Full heartedly. Have I loved? Hundreds of times over. I believe I'm the embodiment of love so therefore I basically breathe the essence of it daily. My problem lies in the science behind love, the fact that most married couples that are 30 years deep are unhappy, have had affairs, or are divorced and trying again. And again. and for those of you who can't seem to figure it out that marriage is for the birds, AGAIN.

My theory is this: You should be with and marry your best friend. The one person that when the sex isnt a hot steamy, throw me up against the wall and fuck the shit out of me kind of multi-daily affair anymore, that you can stand being around for the rest of your life. I mean, let's face it. We get old. We get wrinkley, we get saggy in all the wrong places. (If old geezers still have sex then good for them, but in this moment after having that thought, I am thoroughly frightened and equally nauseated) *shudder* Aging brings sickness, diseases, money woes, all of which you have to conquer together as a team. Again, you best pick the person that's gonna go to bat for you and not judge the mistakes you make along the way. Cuz life doesn't really ever get easier....instead we just get grumpier and opinionated in our old age. (Since I'm only 30 and apparently this is the new 22....I'm basing this info off none other but my own folks.)

My parents are still married. After years of ups and dangerously low downs these two human beings managed to somehow stick together. It's mind blowing to me actually, cuz lord knows I would have split....wait. I somewhat recently got out of a 5 year worthless on/off again relationship that went absolutely nowhere...so maybe I should shut.the.fuck.up about shoulda, coulda, wouldas....but the point being, their marriage doesn't fit the the glass painting on the wall they've created throughout the years.

Yesterday I talked to my Dad. He's almsot 60. Graying. Self acclaimed work-aholic that has become the oh so stereotypical husband. My Mom the bitchy wife who can't seem to understand why my father retreats to the basement with his bag of m & m's to eat in solitude while watching old war movies. "Well are you happy?" I asked. After a moment of deliberation he answered, "No." I may have been seeing things, but I'm pretty sure I saw tears well up in his eyes. "Do you think Mom is happy?" I asked. "No." Dad answered again. "Well do you think you two could benefit from couples therapy?" , Again another no. "We're past that." my Dad replied. At the moment, I didn't grasp what he was saying...but now I know he meant, their unhappiness just is, it's not "fixable". They aren't madly in love anymore and never will be ever again. And then he said the one thing that I'm basing this whole blog on in the first place. "She's my friend. I like her. She likes me. We've been together for years, honey. That's just what happens."

So, marry your best friend. Evolve into something that's honest and open about who we truly are as sexual, emotional human beings. And maybe if you're both adult about it. Keep the doors open for exploration. Stop making "the wondering eye" such a god damn taboo and again let's get real about who we really are. Cuz I'm 100 percent positive I ain't no goose.