not that dramatic.”
“Case in point. Dan. You never trusted him, did you?”
“Well…”
“You knew he was a rat long before I did. Long before I wanted to know. But I was so desperate to have it work out that I ignored all the hints, all the lies and deceit…”
“Love is blind—”
“No! Love is not blind. I’m blind. And I was on the rebound when I met him, remember? Things weren’t much better that time around, either. It’s a vicious cycle and I’ve been stuck in it.”
“Hailey, fess up, you’ve been watching those daytime psychobabble shows, haven’t you?”
Hailey crossed her arms on her chest and scowled at her friend. “Fine, fine, make fun of my brilliant theory. But it comes down to this. Will you support me in my decision?”
“A year with no dates?” Ellen shrugged. “Sure. Can’t hurt. A year is nothing. I’ve had longer dry spells than one year. Just make sure you always have plenty of chocolate on hand.”
“I’ve given up chocolate too.”
“You can’t give up chocolate and men, Hailey! That’s not a resolution, it’s self-torture!”
A good point. “You’re right. I’ll give up chocolate next year.”
Ellen snickered. “So, what happens after the year has passed? How is this going to help?”
Hailey shrugged. “After a year my mind will be clearer. I will have broken free of the cycle. I will be better able to sift through the mud.”
“Mud?”
“Men.”
“Mud equals men—and you still want one? Something isn’t adding up here.”
“When I get some distance, I will gain a new perspective. I might be able to tell real gold from fool’s gold. Or—” She shrugged. “This is also a possibility—I might have accepted the fact that Mr. Right is nothing but a romantic myth and that I’ll be a lot happier if I stop trying to create reality out of a pathetic girlish fantasy.”
Ellen grimaced as she pushed the stack of papers away and reached for her coffee cup again. “Ouch. I’d like to stick with fantasy, thank you.”
“Why build castles in the air if they’re just going to come crashing down on your head? I mean—why would we need a man to the level of being almost desperate for a relationship? We’re modern women. We can do anything we want. Right? Right?” It was a battle cry, but not surprisingly, it had little effect on Ellen.
“Uh…right.”
“Damn right! We can have companionship, friendship, a social life, a career, even children—whatever we want without bringing ‘love’ into it. We don’t need men!”
“Uh…Hailey…remember, that thing men are good for?”
“What?” Hailey stared at her friend, frowning. “Oh, that. Well, I’ll just have to pay for it, I guess.”
Ellen sputtered coffee. “Pay for it?”
Hailey raised an eyebrow. “Fixing roofs and leaking sinks and such, that’s what you meant, wasn’t it?”
“No.” Ellen shook her head for emphasis. “No. That’s not what I meant. You know very well that’s not what I meant.”
“Maybe I’ll just buy myself some tools.”
“Tools?”
Ellen looked intrigued now. When Hailey figured out why, she tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling with an exaggerated expression of disgust. “You have such a dirty mind. I mean tools tools. You know, for fixing the roof and such.”
“Oh,” Ellen muttered. “Okay. Never mind, then.”
“Well, you’re right, there are things a woman can use a man for if you want to be old-fashioned and dependent and stick to traditional roles—but he is definitely not necessary. I’ll just go forth and purchase a cute little toolbox of my very own. I mean, it’s not like there’s any good reason why I shouldn’t be able to fix the roof myself.”
Ellen was looking confused now. “Which roof are we talking about, anyway?”
“A rhetorical roof.”
Ellen nodded. “Right. I think I had one of those once. It did leak. But you know, a toolbox isn’t going to whisper sweet nothings and cuddle you while you sleep.”
Hailey shook her head. “The cuddles come at too great a price. This will be great. I’ll make new friends, I’ll start taking classes and find myself new hobbies, and I can stop worrying about my love life, stop dreading every weekend—whether I have a date or not.” She leaned on the small desk, gesturing earnestly. “Over the holidays I started thinking—why am I doing this? Dating makes me miserable. I’m happiest when I take a break from all that. Unfortunately I never get away with it long, before someone has set me up, and I always agree to go, thinking this time it might be different. Why do we do that? Why are we so hung up on this ridiculous idea that there is a perfect guy for us somewhere out there? Where does this true love myth come from?”
“Don’t. You’re making me depressed.”
“Exactly. Just the thought of there being no Mr. Right has us depressed. So we get desperate and take all kinds of crap, just to avoid the horrible, terrible, paralyzing thought of being still single at thirty. I’ve had it. I’ve trusted too many liars, wasted too much time on losers. It stops here.”
“Hailey, you’re being ridiculous. Okay, so you’ve been unlucky with some of your boyfriends…”
Hailey sent her a look.
“Okay, all of your recent boyfriends,” Ellen amended with a grimace. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a decent guy for you out there. Somewhere.”
“Ah, the elusive someone somewhere sometime. Maybe mine is in Alpha Centauri, born approximately in the twenty-fifth century?”
Ellen pointed at Hailey with a pencil. “I’m serious. There’s someone out there for everyone. More importantly, your bad luck with guys does not mean there’s something wrong with you.”
That was the point, wasn’t it? There was something wrong with her. Simply a dysfunctional pattern, she hoped, not a personality flaw. Something she could work through, habits she could break. That was what this year was all about. If there was a gold nugget out there, she’d never find it if she kept her nose in the mud simply out of desperation. “I just need some time to myself,” she said, her tone low now. “Away from the dating scene. I need a chance to break free from this evil cycle—then I can start afresh.”
“Hailey…”
“Don’t you see? It’s necessary for me to get out of my current dysfunctional pattern. Embrace possibilities. Can-bes instead of must-bes.”
Ellen
