God gave humans this innate ability to think, to sort out and process. We rationalize. As normal, sentient beings, we can employ logic and reason. The amazing synaptic circuitry within our gray matter allows men and women to ponder pedantically, all kinds intricately complicated things such as nanotechnology, molecular pathology and the corpuscular theory of light.
But women take that one step further. We have a tendency to over think the simplest things. Mainly, matters of the heart.
We might be sitting in front of a wall adorned with framed degrees from institutions of higher learning around the world and we might be wearing a white lab coat, while peering intently through a microscope at the protozoa of some yet-to-be-named water born disease that’s killing thousands in Papua New Guinea, but at the same time, we’re thinking about the strange mood you were in last night…..
…..and the name of the pair of surgically enhanced tits we’re convinced you’re obviously seeing behind our backs who’s creating this relationship chasm that we have no absolutely doubt is there.
I know—we’re a draining, often frustrating people, we woman.
And even though I play for the offending team, this gender discrepancy can make my head spin. Then I realize, we should be allowed the occasional mood because we’re entitled. We’ve earned that right, through monthly cramps and bloating and the pain that is child-birth. And why is that? Because Eve ate the apple in spite of the snake’s warning????? Metaphor or not, we’re forced to deal with all the emotional and hormonal things with which our gender-specific physiology forces us to contend.
Beyond that, why are we more insecure and prone to fits of panic and dread when it comes to the male of the species? Why do we belabor the reasons why he likes us…or doesn’t like us. Men fall in love; we collapse….and why in God’s name can’t a man speak “Woman”??? When a guy tells us, “I’ll call you later”, to him, that means withing a ‘reasonable’ amount of time–three to five days. Nu-huh. To us, “later”means he should call the minute he reaches the driver’s side door of his car parked outside. For us, three minutes is a reasonable amount of time for “later”.
I wish I could be more stoic and staunch when it comes to men. I ‘d love to be a woman who acts so cool, nonchalant and aloof about men and relationships. And uh, the key word here is “act”, thank you very much. And I say that because that’s what it is. Any woman who says she doesn’t care is lying, has dated pilots and therefore, incapable of normal emotions or recently lobotomized. Underneath that collected, über calm countenance, there lies a maelstrom of fear and self loathing generated by the fact that HE hasn’t called. Trust me, I know.
And why do we do this? Because we’re hardwired to do this. We entrust our identities to our relationships; they make or break us. We allow men to validate our existences then we spend years paying the price for loving too much, too fast.
And what about these men we love too much and too fast? Men are the lucky ones. You are. From my vantage point, you have it so much better than we do. Men (seemingly) live in a very uncomplicated world of black and white; of yes and no; of absolutes and virtually no middle ground. You dwell in the land of emphatics. On your legal tender is inscribed, “It is what it is” and you accept what it is and never question what isn’t. I envy that you never have to ride this rickety unicycle of shame on a slippery slope while trying to juggle emotions that rear their unpredictable heads every 28 days and still look model thin and glossy fashion magazine pretty. Not to mention feeling you know…..fresh.
We women not only question what it is, but if it ain’t there, we’ll by God create it. We have a screwy manifest destiny thing going with love, our emotions and our imaginations. Men don’t have this. I envy you. In fact, I’d hate you, but as a heterosexual woman, I’m oddly drawn to you. So, therein lies the rough.
Still, the cold hard reality is that we’re different. Men and women are completely different and we’re wired accordingly. We think differently, act differently, love differently and if you don’t believe this, then take a look at the diary entries from a couple who’s been together four years. Both are expressing their concerns over something that happened the night before.
The difference is striking.
And sadly, true.
Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird. We had made plans to meet at a nice restaurant for dinner. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment on it. Conversation wasn’t flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed, but he didn’t say much. I asked him what was wrong; He said, ‘Nothing.’ I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said he wasn’t upset, that it had nothing to do with me, and not to worry about it. On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, and kept driving. I can’t explain his behavior I don’t know why he didn’t say, ‘I love you, too.’ When we got home, I felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there quietly, and watched TV. He continued to seem distant and absent. Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed. About 15 minutes later, he came to bed. To my surprise, he responded to my caress, and we made love. But I still felt that he was distracted, and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep – I cried. I don’t know what to do. I’m almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. I’ll bet it’s that woman, Cheryl from Accounting. I know he’s going to leave me, I know it. I guess I’ll need to add “divorced woman” to my life’s resume. My heart is broken. My life is a total disaster!
Boat engine wouldn’t start yesterday. Can’t figure out why, but at least I got laid last night.