Girl on the Brink: Surviving Desperate Times with Desperate Measures

I’m beginning to view new relationships in terms of goals and deadlines, similar to the annual performance review. With a job, you’re forced to disclose—in writing—your goals to your supervisor and HR.

The deadline for achieving them is your end-of-the-year review, which means you’ve got to set benchmarks throughout the year if you plan on achieving them.

With a relationship, I don’t need to disclose anything to anyone but myself. I can set my own deadlines, and they can be much shorter in scope. I don’t need to give a relationship a year to see if it’s for the long term.

And, I won’t settle for average performance. While performing in the average range may keep you your job, my leg is already swinging forward to give a good, swift kick, because it’s not good enough to keep a man in my life.

Frankly, I’m not sure anymore whether I need a long-term relationship, or a series of companionships, that nuture me long term. Maybe I’ve been reading too many relationship books, but I’m opening my mind to the possibility that humans are not like black swans and don’t mate for life.

The baggage of my childhood agrees with the wedding vow, “’til death do us part.” But, given my track record (two divorces), I’m more inclined to think that it should say, “for as long as we continue to love each other.”

After all, that’s what happens in a job. You don’t stay fettered to work (well, maybe now you do since it’s so hard to find a new one). Why should you stick with a relationship that feels frigid and boring?

My goal for a new relationship is that I must be “swept off my feet,” and he must “rock my boat.” Substitute whatever cliché you’d like. I’m a firm believer that we shouldn’t enter middle age by settling for the first fish that bites our bait.

As I get older, I’ve won’t hesitate to throw back a fish that’s only got the basics down. As my girlfriend says, “There are a lot of fishies in the sea.”