Love Me Tender.... Nah... I'll Pass

I was walking across Mamaroneck Ave into A&P supermarket, wearing my new Sony Walkman. I was 21 and life was so exciting. I was living in my first place, a tiny, basement apartment in Mamaroneck, NY. I had just returned from my first big trip to Portland Oregon, where I was the Maid of Honor at my first best friend's wedding. I hadn't been that thrilled for her. I really felt that marriage would tie her down and ruin her life. That's kind of how I feel when any of my friends succumb to the vows.

I was listening to Elvis that day. "Love Me Tender" was playing.... "Love me tender. Love me true. All my dreams fulfill" Insert noise that indicates screeching wheels coming to a stop...


"Stupid!," I think I said out loud. "No one can fulfill any one else's dreams!" I had no romantic notions. I knew I was who would make my dreams come true.


I had fallen in love for the first time only months before. I'd had a crush on Leroy Spooner since I was 8, but Carl was my first real love. He had told me that he loved me one night in February of that year. I didn't see it coming. I didn't even know we were on a date. I honestly believed that we were just friends. I didn't know how to respond. It took six months and seeing him with someone else to make me realize that I truly loved him. Our love was not meant to be, although we had a long long (insert several more longs here) on again and off again thing. Most of that time he was with someone else. When I met him he was with Lisa Schindler, a trashy stripper whose parents spoiled her rotten. Then there was Audrey, a nice, but equally trashy girl who lived in a basement bar, adorned with neon beer signs and all. Carl met her after that fateful night of his confessing unrequited love. She lasted a long time, and he was serious about her. She and Lisa had something in common that I was lacking. They both needed Carl. They both went to extremes to keep him, like faking a pregnancy and suicide attempts. I knew I didn't need him, but damn, I wanted him. We were friends without benefits, and I moved to Los Angeles for six months to get away from the tension. After ending the frustrations of 3 years of teasing, almost kissing, jealousies and "accidental" physical encounters, we got together. I had been waiting for the right guy, and he was not the one. I wish I knew that 11 years earlier than I did. Our first time, my first time, was painful and disappointing...

"I feel guilty about Audrey," he said as he finished. Fuck! I had just moved back to NY for this douche bag, whom I was still mad about.

Our new, sexual relationship stalled as soon as it had begun. Then, it was on. Then off. Months, and then eventually, years would pass between passionate encounters. He would tell me years later that he wished he could have let himself be with me. He claimed that he never stopped thinking about me that way.

I saw him once more, soon before I moved here to Virginia Beach. He had just moved in with the woman who would become his wife and the mother of his child. I was done with the games by then. Although I let him stay with me that night, we were back to tension and denial.

I always suspected that I was not meant to find love. I certainly didn't want the stuff that is supposed to follow naturally. On my 15th birthday I wrote on a napkin in Red Lobster that I would never get married or have children. My godmother, Aunt Bunny, grabbed the napkin and stashed it in her purse. I'm pretty sure she intended to give it to me when I got married, but she passed away this year and I'm still not married, nor am I a mother.

After Carl, there was Jeff, whom I met while having an affair with his uncle. For a while we were in a poly amorous relationship. I felt like a goddess. They would take turns picking me up from work. We would do everything together. I'd sit between them when we went out on dates, my hands on each one's thigh. They treated me like a princess. The uncle drank heavily, and I hadn't been able to wrap any warm and fuzzies around him, though. To me, he was just fun, a distraction. He'd often be drunk and unable to drive me home, and Jeff would take me. That is when we realized we had a lot in common and struck up a friendship. Eventually Sal was no longer invited. I was mad about Jeff. He broke up with me while out with my friends in Manhattan one very cold March night in 1998. My twin niece and nephew were born that day. So, I will always remember it. I also still have the gloves he lent me that night. I couldn't tell you where they are right now, but they always pop up when I'm least expecting it.

Three more loves followed Jeff. They all ended the same way. Always there was another woman, or many other women. Well, except Mike. I'm not sure what happened with him. The last time broke me. I just didn't want to try anymore. Scott said he'd ruin me for any other man. He did. I was done with the lying, cheating and, most of all, the pretending. By pretending, I mean my pretending. I was always acting as if I wanted to be in a relationship. I never really did, though. Frankly, what I had with Carl was what I enjoyed the most. We'd have amazing passion and then he'd be gone. The sexual tension was more than half of the fun. I had the love of my life, but I had my independence too.

It occurred to me the other day that I was really healthy and in the best position I've ever been in to find love. It also occurred to me that I wanted nothing less. I'm so happy, my life is full, and I can't imagine letting another man screw that up.

Another Carl, who I find attractive, asked "Are you married?"

"No," I answered.

"Would you like to be?" He flirted.

"Hell, no!" I answered. "Haven't you noticed the vehicle I drive? It's transportation for one, and that's the way I like it."

Faith Wars

As my bus emerged from the Holland Tunnel, Thanksgiving morning, I saw this. Honestly, I do know it's a myth. I don't really get the point, though. Is this sign really going to change the minds of the believers? Seriously?

My best guy friend, Jerry, says that religion is the ultimate expression of emotion, and atheism is the ultimate expression of logic. I often wonder if I don't believe because of how my mind works or because the religious machine didn't get me early enough. I hadn't had a lick of religious instruction until a few months into 2nd grade, when my parents took me out of Public School 5 and put me into St.Bartholomews Catholic School. From the moment I colored my first picture of baby Jesus and Mary, I felt it was a bunch of nonsense. Of course, by the age of 3 I had already determined that Santa wasn't real as I whipped off his beard at my father's lodge's Christmas party... in front of all of the other children. So, I already had established a history as a "doubting Thomas."

My mother gave me some story about THAT Santa being one of the "real" Santa's helpers, but I didn't buy it. So I stayed awake Christmas night and listened to my father and mother arguing as they put up the Christmas tree and assembled toys as my father grunted and cursed, and my mother yelled at him for doing it all wrong. It was our tradition that Santa put up the Christmas tree. It was a nice touch. The pressure was always too much for my parents, though, and they would end up whisper fighting until the wee hours of Christmas morning. I didn't pretend to believe in Santa, but I didn't say I didn't either. It was kind of a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. It was important for my parents to think I believed, but it was equally important for me to realize I'd figured it out. The funny thing is that they tell you that it's some sort of end of innocence to find out there is no Santa. Frankly, I felt better knowing the truth. Lucky for my parents, my sister believed until she was around 10, and she pretended a lot longer so her Santa presents wouldn't diminish.

I never had a flicker of faith. As Confirmation approached I went to my parish monsignor and told him that I did not want to go through with it, as I didn't believe. Even though they tell you that you don't have to do it unless you are ready, I was told by Monsignor McManus, and my parents, to just shut up and do it. I didn't answer yes to any of the questions they asked. So, in my heart I never committed. I just stopped going to church. After all, I was an adult in the eyes of the church, and the first decision I made was to stop going through the motions.

I could not be strong armed into believing. I could not be convinced to believe. I know that Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah or whatever you want to call it is a creation by Dark Age man looking for explanations to the mysteries of life before science existed. I know what I know. Until proven otherwise, scientifically, no one can put faith, magically, into my soul.

On the other hand, no one can take some one's faith away. People who believe can't be convinced that there is no God. Some people believe because of tradition, other believe because they don't want to think about what might happen if they disbelieve and are wrong, and others just need to believe because it makes them feel less alone out in the big, scary Universe. Whatever the reason, a billboard in Manhattan is not going to change their minds. Why waste the energy and money on a losing battle? Same with the opposing billboard across the street. That one shows a picture of statues of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus and says, "You know it's real." Again, what's the point? It'd be nice if the sponsor's of these billboards donated the money, instead, to feed the poor. That might make a real difference.

I just wish that we'd all be tolerant of people's beliefs and non-beliefs. I was at a jewelry party several weeks ago when one of the other guests was going on and on about a candidate for city council who was opposing her guy.

"He's an Atheist," she said with mock shock and disgust. "How could he think he could win?"

Almost all the other guests were from my friend's church, so they were all shocked and horrified. I felt like the only cat in a room full of pitbulls at that point, and couldn't wait to put in my time and run. I'm not sure how belief in a god makes one a better person, and belief in the "Big Bang Theory" makes one bad. I wish some one would explain that to me. I've known quite a few Christians who lie, steal, cheat, etc. I've also known non-believers who follow the golden rule to the letter, because it makes logical sense, not because the Bible tells them so. A good person is a good person, god or no god. A bad person is a bad person, god or no god. I think it is time for both sides to be logical and charitable.