October | 2008 | condomisms: tales from a protected life

Crestfallen. That’s my new favorite word.

You see, dear readers, when you first meet someone you like, and they seem to like you back, you feel like you’re on top of the world — like a shelved flag suddenly hoisted at a summit, wildly waving and visibly vibrant. Your very being is taken over by the winds of irrationality: your heart nonsensically palpitates with every text message you receive, every phone call is greeted with unfounded optimism, every endeavor out in public turns into an opportunity for hopeful happenstance … everything simply begins to revolve around this someone.

Alas, when each SMS, each ring and each venture turns into anguish — each of them innocently turning into prickly practices in disappointment — it becomes a lot less fun and a lot more excruciating. Eventually, that flag of yours, once full of life, loses its luster and color. It turns into the white flag of surrender; defeated and falling fast.

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I’m trying not to think about you
Can’t you just let me be?

So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

- Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy*

And so, here is where I find myself now: Basking in the beautiful state of Hawaii, trying my darnedest best at forgetting my personal Sarah Marshall. At the end of this week-long sabbatical, I hope to fly the figurative flag at half-staff to finally mark the demise of my short-lived infatuation.

But until I stumble upon another source of inspiration that shall hoist me again to the heights of exuberance, you shall find me with both my flag and spirit down. Although crestfallen, I can be found floating amidst the waves’ crest somewhere in the shores of Oahu for the time being.

* If you’ve never heard this song, you should.

As prefaced in my previous post, relationships are like jobs: there are ones you stick with for the long haul, some are intentionally ephemeral, and others are bound for the desolate vacuum of nothingness. See a more definitive breakdown of possible employment statuses in the relationship market below:

1) Committed relationship with another person – Full-time/Permanent status. The whole package.

2) Quasi-relationships with attached or noncommittal persons – Contractor/Temp status. You’re like a full-time hire … but are actually not. You don’t get any or all benefits.

3) Flings – Intern status. Services are required for a limited engagement only.

4) Friends with Benefits – Consultant status. Only called in when specific services are needed.

5) Casual Encounters/One-Night Stands – Day Worker status. Get in; get the job done; get out.

6) Single – Unemployed. Still looking for the right opportunity.

7) Loner – Sole proprietor. Out to make it on his/her own.

As is my preference in jobs, at this point in my life, I like the permanent status (#1), so I’m not particularly interested in the brief or solitary stints. (If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll know that I’m currently a hapless #6.)

While I can imagine other people preferring to either be alone (#7) or opting for a fleeting relationship (#3, #4, #5), I can’t imagine anyone intentionally wanting to be a relationship contractor (#2). It’s just such a sheer waste of time and effort — not to mention, money. It is, quite simply, an agonizing state of limbo. So if you find yourself stuck in such an unfortunate predicament — um, you know who you are — I say, stop selling yourself short! Go find someone who’ll give you the real deal. It’s going to be difficult at first, but the sooner you break loose, the better for your quest in finding more gainful employment.

As a final precaution, don’t let Landon Pigg’s song be the soundtrack of your sorrow. It’s a great tune, but it sadly epitomizes what it is to be a relationship contractor. (See the official video here.)

Landon Pigg – Can’t Let Go (live acoustic performance)