“No Matter How Long it Takes”
Playing the Longest Long Game
Rhythm n’ Rhyme
I’m reminded of an old Motown hit; one of my favorite songs. The Supremes sung the original for the ladies’ point of view; later, Phil Collins answered back from the guys’ perspective in his cover version. You’ve probably heard the chorus on the radio a few times, in all its pop music poignancy:
My Mama said,
“You can’t hurry love,
No, you just have to wait.
She said love don’t come easy,
It’s a game of give and take.”
“You can’t hurry love,
No, you just have to wait.
You gotta trust, give it time
No matter how long it takes.”
I can see it now: some lovesick sap stopping at this track on their “single and lonely 😢” Spotify playlist — wedged in-between Nazareth and Bonnie Tyler — eyes burning and soul churning, listening wearily for some nugget of hope and comfort during those lonely times when the love that “don’t come easy” ain’t getting easier.
Hey, that’s why this kind of music sells: love hurts, it’s a heartache and, according to The J. Geils Band, it also stinks.
#Relatable?
Shoot, I can’t tell you what it’s like to be in a relationship! I’m up in the cheap seats with the rest of the single guys.
My track record with women has been pretty much 0 for 0: never dated in high school, never dated in college, all the women I had feelings for either rejected them outright, let me down easy or never knew about it, because the spine I so needed in order to tell them how I felt all of a sudden abandoned me when I needed it most, the bastard.
Right before graduating high school, being told by a girl I loved that she wanted to put off dating entirely so she could focus on college that fall, only to shortly later discover her together with another man in Sixth Sense-esque twist, was devastating. Being dragged across a bed of nails would’ve hurt less than this crippling rejection, and it’s taken substantial time to re-build that trust.
Making the rounds on the singles circuit’s been awfully lonely; like solitary confinement, minus the padded walls. In every nook and cranny I looked, I saw young couples in love: kissing, hugging, holding hands and laughing together. It’s the weirdest exercise in sadistic self-torture, I tell ya.
People I know well and not-so-well have gotten married left, right and in droves, ready to spend the next forty-to-fifty years in a blissful cruise of happiness together — and I‘m left standing on the dock, holding the ticket stub.
I quickly became deeply self-aware in all the non-productive ways. Is something wrong with me? Is it my image? My personality? God, I’m too fat, I’m too needy, my face looks like a bloated egg; what woman would want that to look at every day?
Having any conversation with a woman turned into this Sisyphean task that more often than not ended with me making an awkward horse’s rear end out of myself. Even today, a lot of unresolved introversion I struggled with as a moody teen still rears its ugly head in the presence of a lady particularly beguiling.
Of course, I’m laughing a bit at my own foibles, but I’d be remiss to not be honest and say that, yeah, it sucks and it hurts feeling lonely and rejected when everyone around you is in love.
Ain’t the single life wonderful?
P_______ is a Virtue
Yeah, that word? The “P” word?
I friggin’ hated that word.
That word and I, we go way back; and it’s been a complicated history.
I’m a naturally ambitious person: I have big dreams, and even bigger goals to put into action. My Pops taught me that in order to achieve a goal, you gotta work at it and get after it, because the world won’t give it to you without a little elbow grease and some 10,000 hours.
But this patience stuff came on the flip-side. I heard it from my folks, I heard it in church, I heard it from friends of mine every time I, the broken record that I am, went on and on about my relationship woes. You gotta trust, give it time.
In light of the rejection and the pain I endured earlier in life, such advice felt more than patronizing; it felt downright condescending. I got miffed. I didn’t need another pat on the back and a “you’ll get there, buddy” from someone who was happily betrothed to their beloved. I needed love! Why, on one hand, teach me that in order to achieve something you have to go after it, and on the other hand, throw your arm up and say “whoa, whoa, settle down there, Speed Racer?”
But being young and full of raging hormones, the want of a woman’s affections and the desperate need to cure my loneliness kept me from seeing the inherent wisdom in what it means to “not hurry love.” If it did come easy to find somebody to love, shoot; we’d all have found our idiomatic fish in that plentiful sea by now.
But maybe, just maybe…my friends and my family were…right?
Hard to admit, but necessary to notice.
I had, and have, bigger fish to fry before any of this could happen.
Changing Tides
I’ve been on this floating ball we call Earth for less than thirty years, so I never pretend to be this wise old sage that holds all the answers; once I hit 65 and start cashing my Social Security checks, then maybe I’ll play the part.
All of this is still a major, ongoing work in progress, but I’m certainly farther along on this journey of self-discovery than I was even a few years ago.
When I took a look at myself and my state in life, and honestly evaluated all the options, I thought…geez, no wonder a bum like you isn’t finding love. You’re nowhere near ready!
Harsh as my inner critic is, the little devil had a point. I was working a job with a salary that I could barely get by on. I had to still live at home because the price on having my own place here in my section of Southern California was completely out of the question.
How could I expect to take care of someone when I had yet to get my own affairs in order? I needed a salary I could live on and save on!
I was super-engrossed in my college studies and I needed to keep my good streak going. I was, and still am, struggling with weight issues and exercising regularly so I can be as trim and healthy as I need to be.
Most important of all, I had a lot of insecurity and self-esteem issues that needed to be fixed, ASAP.
Sure, a guy more in touch with his feelings might be quirky, adorable, and even attractive to some women, but no woman could ever love a guy who couldn’t even love himself. In my eyes and in my mind, I was the most boring, uninteresting, unattractive, single-faceted man on the planet. I had talents and interests I believed women would find nerdy and stupid. I had a conversational voice I hated and believed other women found grating. I like being young at heart and carefree in spirit, but believed it to be a detriment, as I thought most women thought me immature and non-serious.
You notice any recurring words in here? “Believe?” “Thought,” maybe?
I’m a guy caught up in my own mind; all of my mind’s lies included. Changing the construct of how I saw myself, all those flawed beliefs and thoughts, and recognizing that what made me “me” was, in fact, pretty darn unique and something worth loving in me, was the biggest, most necessary revelation.
There was also a lot of spiritual growth I needed to do as well: I needed to re-invigorate my faith, and connect it with my sense of what makes a man and what it takes to be a man.
Being a responsible man committed to his wife is more important than being an impulsive man committed to beer, guns and axe-throwing.
Being a caring man is more important than being a “tough guy.”
Having a set of strong values is more important than having a rugged beard on my chin.
Tending to my spouse’s needs is more important than satisfying my own, or expecting her to satisfy my own.
My mind and my inner monologue kept me from seeing the valuable human I was, and the valuable human I could grow into, for the longest time. As I’ve been developing the courage to tell myself to shut the heck up for a minute and take stock of who I needed to be, I’ve taken more pride in what I’ve been immensely blessed with, how blessed my life really is, and who I’m set out to be.
Y’know what? Come to think of it: I like me. Someone out there might like me as well, and I’ll like her.
I like that.
While I was focusing on all these internal factors, I also took stock of external factors.
I needed to graduate from college. Check.
I needed to quit my dead-end job. Check-a-rino.
I needed to snag a career-level job with a higher salary. Check-a-doodle-doo.
Alright, three things: not bad at all! Now what?
Right now, I’m saving my money to go towards either rent for an apartment or to go towards gradually buying an actual home. Which choice will be the better one in the long run is the biggest factor I’m working out.
But one thing’s for sure: women like an independent, self-starting man who can prove he can provide for himself. Coming into that role requires time: time to build up that bank account, time to settle into a career and advance within that career, time to keep the bills and the spending to as minimum of a minimum as possible. It would be difficult to manage all this while making sure I took time for, and gave full focus to, any woman I’m with.
Businesspeople talk about the concept of “the long game” when it comes to advancing within their career or in an organization; in layman’s terms, it means riding it out, putting in the work, and impressing your superiors enough that they take notice of you, promote you, and eventually get you to the spot in your career that you always wanted to achieve.
I mean, if love is “a game of give and take,” the best players in a game are the ones who take time to strategize, to plan, to get their ducks in a row before they make their moves. Hey, I know it’s a simplistic way of looking at the complex system of emotions and actions that make up “love” as we know it, but some parts of love and attraction are just that black and white and undeniable. While it’s not all I’m worth as a person, having security in finances and assets makes for a pretty good calling card.
At the same time, I realized that looking for the right one, instead of just anyone, was the wisest way to do it. Finding the right one does, again, involve time and effort; relationships are a 50/50, two-way street investment that couldn’t, and shouldn’t, happen overnight.
I’ve known people that have rushed into marriage before they really even knew who the spouse they were falling for was, inside and out. That haste came with a price; the price of discovering that each of their personalities didn’t gel like they thought it would. These are what lead to divorces, infidelities or a baggage cart’s worth of resentment and pain.
That price is way too steep. I’m not signing up for that package!
So even though those needs for affection, encouragement and love remain on the back-burner for me, those become immeasurably priceless once the right woman comes along for her to fill those needs, and for me to have the joy to fill all of her needs as well.
Shoot, who knew?
Maybe it’s not so bad after all.
Maybe this is a long game worth playing…
When she does finally come around, I’ll let you know how it is on the other side. Then, I won’t need that playlist much anymore.
