How Kryptonite is killing my Superwoman

"I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be something to do with you
I really don't mind what happens now and then
As long as you'll be my friend at the end

And if I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
If I'm alive and well, will you be there holding my hand?
I'll keep you by my side with my superhuman might
Kryptonite

You call me strong, you call me weak
But still your secrets I will keep
You took for granted all the times
I never let you down"

- Kryptonite, 3 Doors Down



Over 5 years ago, I met a devilishly charming guy and fell heels over head for him (yeah, try falling down, while upside down; it's difficult) and entertained a complicated and confusing and satisfying(I think) relationship that never goes away (It's like Joan Rivers just when you think she's going to kick the bucket...). To keep people from intimating who he is, I'm going to call him Mr. Kryptonite, which is a far cry from the array of nicknames he's been dubbed in the past.

In those 5 years we have dated/hooked-upped with/cuddled with/flirted with/been in relationships with a shit ton of other people, but somehow, when the forces that made the heavens and earth align and something causes other interactions outside of us to end... aka the explosion of a distant planet. Debris hits my world, and I'm left standing there with a giant green rock and a severely diminished "Go Forth and Conquer the Dating World" Mentality.

And believe you me... I have an amazingly large "Go Forth and Conquer the Dating World" Mentality. Try coming from a town with only 1000 other people, you learn too much about potential boyfriends.

So here again the Kryptonite has entered my world and thrown my dating life into a shambles. What I previously thought was good and right is now subpar and depressing in comparison to the could haves and the should bes. Even though all of the odds are against it, and the odds that it will happen are equal to someone being in a plane crash twice. It's like a bad dive in a soccer game. I know I'm going to end up with my hands thrown in the air going, "seriously!?" Everyone knows it's messed up, but everyone also know it's going to happen irregardless.

I think the psychologist in me would say that, 'the main part of me savors being weak and vulnerable, because for the most part I've beaten that part of me into submission,' like a circus bear on a ball wearing a clown costume, which is why I keep finding myself holding this green rock in my hand. But that sudden injection of massive vulnerability also throws me for a loop. When I went to see him the other day, my palms went sweaty, my heart pounded in my chest like Ricky Ricardo playing Babaloo, and afterwards I think I was nauseas (still up for debate on that one).

Due to the "Go Forth and Conquer the Dating World" Mentality I've experienced my fair share of heart ache, as well as, being the bringer of it. So I've built myself a tower to protect me from being vulnerable, and from my tower, I perch looking for shiny pebbles in the world below, which aren't going to upend my world, like Kryptonite does. And you know how hard it is to uphold your tower when someone knows everything about how you built it and has the blueprints in their pocket?

I'm not going to bore you with the story of our first kiss or boring flirtations or how everyone around us can feel the tension (Seriously, people, everyone). I just want you to know this for future reference. He's the trump. He's Mr. Big. He's Heathcliff and Mr. Rochester and Mr. Darcy and Professor Bhaer rolled into one person and at the end of the day for all the aches and annoyances he's caused, due to how good the good is when it's good, I'd probably give up my left foot if he needed it, which would piss all of my friends off, but 'hey he needs it, and I didn't like walking all that much anyway!'

And this drives me crazy, but clearly my nose and those damned pheromones and my body don't care about history or feelings. They just know about the here and now. Maybe one day I'll give them a history lesson that they'll actually pay attention to.