Wednesday, November 04, 2009
I bought Sexless in the City a month before Jason and I started dating. I put off reading it to work on my thesis, and then once the relationship started, and graduation plans ensued, and then the getting OVER the relationship season began... well, let's just say that it took me until mid August to begin reading this book that had so quickly caught my attention in February. Once I began, I realized that this woman, Anna Broadway, was telling my story. Sure some of the details were different, but she and I have walked disturbingly similar paths. I cannot recommend this book enough. Sure, it's about sex and Anna has a lot to say on the subject. But it's also just about life. It's about being a Christian. She describes her experiences with a hindsight that I can only hope to have a few years down the road. It's uncanny how closely her reactions to life match mine. Crushes on guys, not because they are worth even an ounce of your heart's energy but because you are lonely, or even worse, bored. The hours spent examining every word exchanged between you and the current crush, the anxious checking of email just in case he replied to your message in the last 45 seconds. I have been there, too many times.
I am affected by the authors I read and those of you who have faithfully read this blog over the last 4 years can attest to my multifaceted personality as a writer. If I read too much Jane Austen (is there such a thing?), my mind works like an Austen novela. And reading Anna Broadway is no exception. Authors give me frames in which I can understand the life that moves around me. With Anna, I can laugh. As I read her stories of loves lost, and really they are just crushes lost, I reflect on my own long list of "loves" lost. In the past I've tried to count how many crushes I've had, but I have realized that it is an impossible task. There are too many to count. Ha, if that isn't humbling, what is?
I have a half day on Wednesdays which means I get home by 7pm. I decided to spend my extra hours tonight at Dunkin Donuts with an iced tea, finishing Sexless in the City. I've been reading it for months now and I decided that I needed to just power through the last 20 pages tonight. I get so easily distracted when I read Sexless. My mind wanders to all the various life experiences the book brings to memory. Anna names all the people in her book with nicknames that have to do with who they are. Winner, Poster Boy, and the Harvard Lickwit are all men in her life at some point in time. I began to think about the boys in my past. What would I name them? There would be the Drummer, Hookah Rocker, and of course Mr. White picket fence. Can you guess who is who? No posting answers, but if you want to guess, shoot me an email.
Tonight as I finished the last few pages, I grabbed my journal and scribbled down a few sentences of reflection. I'll share with you a little of what I wrote:
In a truly pathetic fashion I have played with my heart, holding it out for the taking. I have clutched it with all my strength while simultaneously trying to throw it at the oblivious passerbyers. I have given my heart time and time again, secretly hoping the receiver would turn out to be Prince Charming.
There's gotta be something wrong with this picture. I think I'm learning how to live, to really live. Love is so complex, and life even more.