"...In Which Lennon Questions Your Manhood..."

In terms of dating and relationships, men and women alike subscribe to several pipe dreams. Although there are so many I could cover here, the one that irks me the most is the concept of manhood. I don't mind saying  that I think I'm a pretty good guy. When I was a "relationship guy", I'd like to believe that I was reasonably indicative of the man my mother raised. However, as it stands today, I think some of the frequently ridiculous notions that are often associated with the stereotypical man would keep me out of the running if I wanted to be someone's "boyfriend."

On this day last year, I was entering the death rattle of a bad romance. As it turned out, if you ask her, she was entering the honeymoon phase of a wonderful romance...with another guy. And she forgot to tell me. For two months. In short, I became the "other guy" in a relationship I didn't know was happening. The guy had been around long before me and whenever I asked, I was told there was nothing going on. At this point, she'd earned enough of my trust that I was comfortable believing her. Later, whenever I pressed the issue, it only resulted in a shouting match. This is how we spent the last leg of our time together. Fighting about shit that ended up being true. Recently, I was talking to my friends and it came up. Granted, it only came up because my friend thought it would upset me enough that I would concede her point, but I digress. One of my friends went on to point out that I should have "put my foot down" about her hanging out with him, that women expect a "real" man to talk forcefully with them. It's actually very much like the stereotype of the cartoon caveman that would hit the cavewoman on the head and drag her back to the cave as a form of choosing a mate. This is where we go wrong in relationships.

There are many women who subscribe to this fantasy that it's only true love if a man drags you by your hair into a decision. Men are assumed to not care about their s/o if they don't beat their chests like silverback gorillas at the sight of another man taking his shot at her. You know what that reminds me of? High school...where teenage girls let a man hit on them to get their boyfriend's attention. I wonder....what governs their lives when they don't have a man? How do these women define themselves as adults if they're still waiting to be told what to do. I'm not saying this to be mean, but it seems like it never occurs to them...or some men, for that matter.

I'm not ashamed to say that if I did decide to entertain the notion of monogamous relationships again (which is very much up in the air), it would be because the woman on my arm WANTS to be there without me having to tell her to. Maybe it's just me, but love doesn't have to do cartwheels atop the Empire State Building to be relevant. Love doesn't care about competition because love isn't a race. Love isn't concerned with planting a flag in conquered territory like Christopher Fucking Columbus, recognizes that quiet dogs bite hard, appreciates the bond between mates instead of the idiocy they put each other through. In other words, if you ask me, Love is a grownup.