Butterflies and Hurricanes

This post is more of a question than my usual strong opinionated or random rant efforts. What is this Zimbabwean million dollar question you might ask, well, it’s “Am I good luck Chuck?” When one of my closer friends strongly suggest I see this movie (read Good Luck Chuck) I immediately thought it was in reference to my affection for the uberly hot Jessica Alba (who is in the movie). Instead it was his not so subtle suggestion that it was a movie that compared closely to my actual love life. See, the basic theme of Good Luck Chuck, is that every woman that he dated/hooked up with ended up finding the person she would be with for the rest of her life after him. As in, the very next person they were to date was their quasi soul mate/life partner/person that completes them. Now, before anyone thinks that my 25 year old self absorbed, highly insecure existence is thinking about settling down and finding Miss Right, the motivation for this post was due to recently discovered information as well as thoughts of the past.

In Good Luck Chuck, he would date a woman, they would break up with him (or him with them) and the very next person they were to date became their husband. Granted, some of you romantic cynics out there may see this as a curse more than some sort of positive outcome, I however find just it disconcerting.

A little re-cap and historical context. The recently discovered bit of information is that my first ever girlfriend (and only girlfriend in high school, yes, yes, I was the cool, indifferent loser) that I dated for an entire 2 week period, has gotten married. This “relationship” of ours was all of 8 years ago. She started dating her now husband, the very weekend we broke up…THAT WAS 8 YEARS AGO! We lasted 2 weeks, in awkward conversation, some sort of physical attraction (well, I thought she had really blossomed) and she dated him for 8 YEARS! Sounds like no biggy, right? Well, strap in, prepare yourself for quite the ride.

That was in 2000. My next girlfriend of note was in 2003. She, though a harlot and eventual philanderer, was the other part in an awesome month long rollercoaster romance. The tears had barely dried when she began dating someone else. THEY ARE STILL TOGETHER. Even the village bicycle has managed a relationship for the past 5 odd years. Yes, she may have had multiple partners whilst still being with before mentioned dude or been the dismissive disarming princess she was to me (maybe more committed), but they still lasted 5 years. Seriously now, what the fuck?

The other ex from 2003, proceeded to date her next boy for approximately…5 years. Yes, that’s right. Their tumultuous and tempestuous relationship has gone on and on and included at least two engagements. They are still together and nearing engagement number three. We dated for 2 months. She is STILL DATING HIM.

Members of the jury, I now turn your attention to the evidence of 2004. I dated her for almost 5 months. It was interesting, and sometimes really, really good. She started dating someone else a week after we broke up as a quasi revenge offensive. THEY ARE STILL TOGETHER! We, as what I refer to it, extreme dated for 5 volatile months before the dramatic end (in which I ended it because I was tired of being told what a shitty boyfriend I was and met someone else) yet she and her new dude are all systems go and well on the path to marriage. Am I the only one seeing a pattern here?

We are now presented with the reason for above break up, the other relationship of 2004. I ended it and she didn’t take it too well. After a sabbatical from all things relationshipy, she started seeing someone in early 2005, yes, you guessed it…THEY ARE STILL TOGETHER! This is stuff that the greatest romance/thriller/fantasy/conspiracy theory novelists couldn’t come up with, even with guest contributions from Quinton Tarintino and Robert Rodriguez. She was a broken woman after our relationship, yet picked up the pieces and missioned ahead with her new guy. They are well on their way to marriage and aiming to emigrate together.
The drama of 2005 references the ex that actually saw suitors whilst we dated. Though those were decently ominous signs as it was, we dated for a record 6 months. It was generally good, till she validated an ex boyfriend more than me. They hooked up, again, after a 2 year period apart and …no prizes for guessing, they are STILL TOGETHER! I mean, what the hell man? We were good together, it was all rainbows and butterflies, but at the first instance of drama, it was death by conversation. Instead, she works it out with the very person that was a real dick to her during dating and even post dating.

We now get to undoubtedly, my most favorite story. The romantic tragedy of 2006. She was pretty awesome, we were pretty good together, her other personalities showed up and out voted the ones that liked me, that was that. We dated for a Nelson Mandela-prison-sentence rivaling 3 months. She started dating someone half an hour after me and…all together now, THEY ARE STILL FUCKING TOGETHER! We barely had a chance to discuss each others child hoods, favorite colors and other relationship shit yet she and her new man, have emigrated together. What the fuck dudes?

Right, now that the evidence is in, we retire to our chamber to pass judgment. They could have just got on better with the next. The next could have been easier to be with. The next could have been better than me in every way possible. In certain cases, the next may have had more personalities than me and as such, been a better fit. The next could have been wealthier and perhaps have a bigger penis and uber abs. But seriously now…it was like I was bringing a knife to a gun fight, in hindsight.

What do you think? The good people of the public domain. Some of you know me personally. Some even closer than that and some of you have just longed from afar. My best friend ventures the insightful “maybe it’s you dude”. As deep and profound as that may sound, I, a student of people and logic, can’t fathom that such a caveman conclusion fits. And even if it is the final prognosis, what are the symptoms and surely, sweet Jesus, surely there must be some sort of pharmaceutical experimental drug out there to aid my terminal state.

Just a sequence of bad choice, bad luck, bad timing…or deeper issues on one party’s side? As I have articulated before, I’m not that bad looking (have been accused of being handsome by the odd sober woman), I am decently insightful, intelligent, charming and witty. I have a decent job (for those old fashioned retards that factor that into a man’s worthiness); I am good with kids, pets and old people. Moms love me, fathers at least don’t generally hate me and I play well with her friends. What might be the problem?

Am I Good Luck Chuck and to be doomed. Destined to be some sort of lucky charm for women in their quest to find their preferable perfect fit? Resigned to fall, be left or leave and end up alone, whilst everyone else picks up the pieces and makes happy postcard-esqe memories. Sunday afternoon “comfy” sex and romantic weekends away? Fighting over what movie to watch, which shade of tan to paint the living room with and where to holiday? All, only after me?

If that is the burden I bear, the cross that I carry, then pretty please, dear Santa, all I ask, is where the fuck is my Jessica Alba?


“Rather than love, than money, than fairness, give me truth”