Sars,

Hoping you can help with this, but it helps just to rant for a bit.

Why is it that EVERY female on the planet is hooking up except me?

No, I know, you hear that all the time. But I’m totally serious here. I don’t have a single friend who’s in the same boat as me: single, 23, college-graduate, and still a virgin.

I have buddies. I get along well with my family. I don’t need any guy to make me feel worthwhile. I look pretty good. I know I’m not some drop-dead gorgeous supermodel, but even in my WORST moments I know I’m not hideous. Not even homely. But I have NEVER had a boyfriend, not for any length of time or for any lack of trying, and it depresses the hell out of me. And it’s not the lack of sex that bothers me. Really. No, REALLY. Maybe it’s just that I can’t seriously crave something I’ve never had. Whatever. I’m not about to jump into bed with the first guy that waggles an eyebrow at me; that’s not the point. What’s killing me is just being ALONE. Bad enough that I don’t have a guy to snuggle with. But there’s this huge gulf between me and EVERYONE I know, because they’ve ALL had a sig. other at some point or other, and I never have.

I go out with my friends all the time. I don’t hog the conversation and I buy a round once in a while. I take care of myself and my appearance, and I don’t flaunt the fact that I’m a virgin, I know it could intimidate the heck out of some guys. I know I’m a decent, intelligent person, and I feel so unloved and left out I just want to turn hermit. I’ve talked to family and a few friends about this, but it’s tough to take sympathy from people who started dating YEARS younger than me. I hear a lot of “No of COURSE you’re not unlovable and you WILL find someone,” but that sure doesn’t make me feel any better NOW. And I’ve been hearing that all through high school and college and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight.

Having friends is fine and good, definitely, but I think everybody knows nothing compares to finding a guy to just hang out with and be silly with and smooch every now and then. Tons of people say, “Men, you’re better off doing without ’em.” That’s easy for them to say; they think having a YEAR of nookie-drought is “doing without.” Try it for 23 years. This isn’t a drought. It’s a desert that’s never seen a single drop.

Sorry to rant; I know I’m bitter. It’s just that I’ve heard the same ol’ condolences and the same ol’ advice (volunteer, get involved in more activities, socialize more, I’ve tried it all), and I was just hoping to hear some new words of advice, if not how to find that one guy, then maybe on how to “do without” a little better. (Preferably the former. I’ve had enough of the latter.)

Sincerely,
Silver Lining? I’ll Settle One Damn Cloud, Period.

I really don’t know what to tell you. There’s nothing I can say that you haven’t already heard; there’s nothing I can suggest that you haven’t already tried. In order to give you anything you could work with, I would have to come to your town, meet your friends, scope out your workplace, and set up a war room. And if you’ve got a couple thousand bucks lying around, I’ll do just that.

No? No, I didn’t think so.

The only thing I can say: go with the flow. I know you hate the flow. I know you’d prefer to fight the flow. I’ve had that flow; I understand. But hating and fighting the flow — not working for you, right? So, go with it. Accept that, for the moment, an existence pure as driven snow is what you have to deal with. Look at the situation and mutter bitterly to yourself, “This blows,” and then heave a big old sigh and mutter in a slightly pleasanter tone that your life has a plan for you and it’s not yours to know. Then make a face at that old lady who’s all staring at you because you’re muttering to yourself. This is what we call “gallows humor,” so grab the rope.

I don’t want to get all Anthony Robbins on your ass here. But you do have to learn to look at it positively, or 1) it’ll make you all grey and dry inside, and 2) the men you long for will sense it, and will move away from you. I mean, believe me, I can sympathize. It’s never gotten to that extent with me, that’s true, but I know the frame of mind well, and it’s really a matter of training yourself not to think “nothing ever happens” or “godDAMN why won’t something HAPPEN,” but rather, “Hey, anything could happen. Could happen in, like, five minutes. Might not happen for weeks, but it’s still out there, waiting to happen.” Look at me. I’d kind of like a boyfriend, but I don’t have one right now. On the one hand…sigh. On the other hand…so many adorable boys buzzing around the room of my world, any one of whom could stick to The Voluptuous Flypaper Of Sars, any one of whom could happen to me, because nobody else has happened to me so far.

What we don’t have, what isn’t — all potential, if you look at it the right way. Negative capability is very comforting. Just focus more on the “capability” part.

Dear Sars,

I have an online diary that’s moderately-to-not-at-all popular, and I really enjoy writing in it. And using poor grammar. A lot of my friends from high school read it as a way to keep in touch, and people I’ve never met read it too.

The thing is, I’m about to know someone who’s semi-famous. Semi-famous as in, we’re both athletes and this person is a really good one. An Olympic gold medallist, actually. Even my sports-illiterate friends recognize the name. And he/she is moving to train with the same team that I currently train with, so we’ll be spending about five hours a day in the presence of each other, and it’s only a matter of time before we get to know each other. So, generally, I would write about this kind of thing in my diary. I’d be like, “Oh yeah. There’s a new kid named _____ on the team, they’re really a) Cool b) Boring c) Stupid.” Or something to that effect.

But for some reason I feel like I shouldn’t write about this person, because he/she has a certain degree of name recognition, and it doesn’t seem like something I should do. If we don’t get along, it’s like trashing a national hero to an audience, even if it is just another teammate. I’m thinking about an alias, but obviously, that can backfire.

Basically, should I feel free to write about him/her, remembering that not very many people read it, or should I just totally ignore the newcomer in my diary?

Just So Very Conflicted

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Dear Just,

I think that — as long as you use an alias, bury any of the more significant or telling details about the new person, and don’t make him/her too much of a focus in your diary — you can certainly write about him/her.

Once you’ve met and gotten to know each other a bit, you might mention to him/her that you do keep a diary. Describe it the way you’ve described it to me, and ask if he/she’s comfortable with appearing in it semi-anonymously. If he/she’s not, just go back and pull out any references to him/her, no harm done.

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Hi Sars,

I could really use some advice here.

I dated “John” for about six months. I was 17. He cheated on me, dumped me, took me back, cheated some more, et cetera. It was a VERY mentally abusive relationship. Finally, I got sick of it and started dating “Paul” (John’s best friend, who John had previously suggested that I date). John FLIPPED OUT.

He started telling us about how he once suffocated a kitten, he lied and said he’s bisexual, he told us he was going to kill himself.

I said, “Um, John? YOU dumped ME!” He started FOLLOWING me around the city. Wherever I went, there he was. He called my house literally twenty times a day to try to find out where I was. He scared the living piss out of me.

This culminated in him STEALING a ladder from my neighbors, putting it against my bedroom window, and climbing up. Meanwhile, I was CHANGING. The blinds were closed, but there were parts you could see through. He knocked on my WINDOW, and I freaked out because it’s on the second floor.

Anyway, he basically stalked me, killed his relationship with Paul, and made us both feel horrible. It ended with me growing a backbone (FINALLY). He came to my house late one night when I was, unfortunately, alone. He banged on the door; I saw who it was and locked it. He looked MAD. More so than I’ve ever seen anyone look in my life. I was terrified.

I told him to leave, but for ten minutes, he just kept banging on my door and yelling at me to let him in. So I got my cordless phone, stood where he could see me, said, “I’m calling 9-1-1,” and did so. Shortly afterward, he left.

A couple of months ago (it has been about two years since all of this happened), he sent me an email with some poetry he’d written for his current girlfriend. I critiqued it for him. Then I thought better of it, wrote back to him, and said I didn’t ever want to talk to him again.

Yesterday, Paul and I were in the mall. John works at a shoe store there. We walked past, and he came to the front of the store, crossed his arms, and gave us THE most evil glare I’ve ever seen in my life. He was shaking with restrained anger.

IT’S BEEN TWO YEARS!!! He’s STILL really really angry!!!

I always see these programs and magazine articles about jealous ex-boyfriends attacking, even murdering, their ex-girlfriends. I think he may be psycho enough to try something.

I thought about a restraining order, but if he really wanted to hurt me, I don’t think that would deter him. And it might just make him even more angry.

What should I do?

Confused and Sort of Scared

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Dear Confused,

Okay, first of all, you’ve done everything right so far. You’ve made it clear to him that you want nothing more to do with him, and that you won’t hesitate to involve the authorities if he won’t fuck off.

Stick to that. If he calls, don’t answer. If he emails you, delete it. If he comes to the house, have a member of your family tell him to leave, and if he won’t, phone the police. Don’t go back to that mall. Yeah, I know it’s a free country, but you need to excise any contact with John from your life, even the accidental kind.

Make sure your family and friends know that John’s still all het up about the break-up, and that you feel scared. Tell them all not to give him any information about you; if there’s another incident, tell them about that, too. You don’t have to get all red-alert about it, but put a network in place of people who know the situation, just in case.

Now, go directly to Amazon. Do not pass “Go.” Do not collect $200. Get Gavin DeBecker’s The Gift Of Fear. It’s worth every penny. Read all of it. Take DeBecker’s advice to heart.

I don’t think there’s any need to get a restraining order at this point, but if John continues harassing you or threatens you in any way, report him to the police; even if they can’t/don’t do anything about it, at least they’ll have a record of his pattern of behavior. Keep an eye out, stay alert, and don’t engage him directly, because that’s what he wants.

[8/24/01]

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Tags:   boys (and girls)   etiquette   sex