ring spotting

I'm not exactly sure when I learned to do this automatically but I'm guessing it was around the absurd age of 20. 

When I see a cute guy I IMMEDIATELY glance to his left hand.  I'll wiggle in my seat a little to get a better look. I'll squint my terrible near-sighted eyes to focus better on the guitar-playing hand shaded by bright stage lights.  I'll casually, but swiftly, look down when he's not looking.

All to see if he's wearing the tell-tale wedding ring.

Frankly, it's completely ridiculous that I knew there was a need to do this as early as 20.  It's not like I was scoping older men, looking for my sugar-daddy [that would come later] it's just that in my city that's when people get married.  I don't even live in the South where it's OK to marry when you're 15 [and sometimes your cousin, for that matter] it's just what people do.  And not just some people, most people.

This past weekend I was in the great city of New York.  I walked over miles of sidewalk and rode miles of subway.  I ate in amazing restaurants and was happy to pay the price of an upset stomach for lots and lots of great cheese.  I saw a two-man play about the complexities of homosexual male relationships [I could relate to their frustrations with men].  I saw a Broadway show for 50% off.  I accidentally happened upon Occupy Wall St when I came out of the subway station.  I was told by a seemingly well-trained and sophisticated salesman at Hugo Boss that I was "between a small & a medium".  [Needless to say, he lost that sale.]  I saw people from every country in the world and I heard nearly every major language there is to speak, but you know what I hardly ever saw?

Wedding rings on cute guys.

It was shocking really.  I would look down with pessimistic anticipation and to my surprise, no ring!

This happened so often, I thought about adopting a "no glance" policy but that seemed totally crazy so I gave that up. 

So, thank you, men of New York City.  Thank you for being my age and not married.  Thank you for your pin stripe suits and your ubiquitous iphones.  But most of all, thank you for being single.

fear

The other day, my friend, Casey, told me a story about a girl she was friends with in high school and keeps up with over Facebook.

This Facebook friend, Ellen, had been married for about 5 years but with this guy since high school. Then, one day a few months ago, she posted on Facebook that he left her the night before.

He just left her. Gone in the night.

Of course, we don't know the whole story and possible years of difficult conversations, arguments and misunderstandings. Maybe it's a good thing he left because he'd been having an affair for years. We don't know.

But it reminded me of the fear I harbor the deepest about marriage and relationships: you cannot keep that other person with you by shear will or desire or even depth of your love or need. They can leave you at any time, for any reason they deem important enough to do so.

You can cry, and scream and tell them they mean everything to you. But they can still leave.

You can say you'll do anything to make it better. But they can still leave.

You can resign yourself to do whatever they say you never do and admit you were wrong. But they can still leave.

Of course, the very nature of love is its freedom. You can't make someone choose you or stay with you or love you if you force the other. That's not love.

Also, the incredible risk involved with putting yourself out there and jumping in with both feet is the beauty of love. If you aren't willing to take the risk, you simply aren't ready for love.

My heart broke for Ellen even though I have never met her and probably never will. It didn't make me retreat away from the idea of a relationship but it's a cautionary tale that does little else but prove my fear is real and not all that far away.

But of course, I knew that already, had been reminded of that just a few days before. No matter how hard you love someone, more often than not, you have to let them go.