Now that my life is half over, I have belatedly come to the realization that I have "a type." Three of the men I have loved look very much alike. Short dark hair, lighter-than-you'd-expect eyes, good cheekbones, glasses. I'm pretty short (my driver's license says 5'3") so height isn't really relevant. Two of the three were very into martial arts; two were Catholic; two were (said affectionately) financial nerds.
How did I never notice these similarities before?
Is it that my affection for these men subconsciously began with attraction (OK, lust) but my conscious mind wanted to dress it up as something loftier?
Certainly my relationship with the 1980s model Laurie Guy was based on lust. He was savvy and boyishly charming, but certainly not smart. (The phrase "dumb as a box of rocks" has been used to describe him.) We had two speeds: fighting and f***ing. I cannot remember anything we had in common, other than our mutual willingness to blame me for all his problems. Whence last I heard, he was working at a Domino's Pizza. He would easily be 50 now. (I could look it up; he was very proud of the fact he and DisneyWorld had the same birthday.) To borrow from Babs, "It's the laughter we will remember ..." so I will try to remember something positive or sweet about that relationship. Ummmm ... In addition to martial arts (carefully pronounced "kuh-rah-TAY"), which he did obsessively but not well, he loved The Three Stooges. Considering how depraved many areas of his life were, his love of The Stooges was pure and kinda touching. His favorites were (in order) Curley, Moe, Larry, Shemp and Curley Joe.
The 1990s model Laurie Guy and I had a more genuine connection. He actually thought about stuff that we could talk about. Things neither of us could necessarily discuss with other people, because not everyone was as geeky as we were. Like the relevance of the Electoral College. (Yes, I sure know how to seduce a man, don't I?) I loved how his mind worked. The two people he admired most were Dr. King and economist Adam Smith. Now come on! How can you not be intrigued by that? He also had a terrific body and terrific control of it. He was a black belt in kuh-rah-TAY. He was modest and very, very remote. No matter how often he said it, I never really believed he loved me because there was so much he kept tucked away. He was smart, never boring, and could be very tender. My happiest moment with him: being awoken by how tightly he was holding me as he slept. He's married now, and I hope he's happy because he really was a very nice man.
The New Millenium Laurie Guy is my best friend. Since we've never slept together, and aren't likely to, I don't know if we'd be compatible. I do know that there is a certain level of tension between us that we diffuse most clumsily. (Bickering, teasing, kicking one another under the table ... come on, you remember 7th grade!) I love how open he is with his emotions, how hard he works at being a good dad, how accepting he is of the things about me other people find grating. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt as accepted by anyone in my life as I have been by him. While he's more serious than people realize, my favorite thing about him is how when we're together we play and act silly. My favorite moment with him would be (this is very non-PC) the night we watched Brokeback Mountain on pay-per-view and laughed till the pizza and beer were practically coming out of our noses. "Stem the rose" is a phrase that can still crack us up.*
Let's see now ... what have I learned on this jaunt down Memory Lane. That I have "a type." And that (saints be praised!) I never make the same mistake twice. The 1980s Laurie Guy was an abusive drunk with questionably calibrated moral compass. 1990s Laurie Guy and New Millenium Laurie Guy are better men, better to me and for me.
*I know, I know ... Brokeback is one of the great movie love stories of all time. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Gay cowboys lassoing one another out on the range is funny. It just is. Not our fault.
