So I had a thought--generally a dangerous thing for me to do. It's not about Twilight, but it may or may not have stemmed out of my recent vampire utopia/dystopia identity. I was thinking about women (and girls) and how many of us, no matter how jaded, carry hope that we'll find "the one." I would garner this is true for many men in the world, but I don't know them so I won't speak for them. My point in this case is about women's perception of "the one" anyway--I think most women still imagine this guy somewhat like Prince Charming. He'll know what to say; he'll know what to do, and when he doesn't it will be so adorable that it will only make us love him more.

This idea has been percolating in my head for awhile as I've observed another couple close to me get to know each other and settle into a relationship. In one instance she wanted him to go dancing at the club; he really, really didn't want to go, and this made her very, very mad. I realized in that moment, watching these guys figure this out, that he was her boyfriend. He was supposed to dance dirty with her and be all James Bond. Even though logically she knew he wasn't any of those things and the club wasn't his sort of romance she still wanted that in him, the ability to be "that guy" for her when requested.

Where I'm going with this is that I think many women, in a well meaning, romantic, hoping for love sort of way, objectify men in a slightly destructive manner that is unfortunate for both parties. I sigh as I say this because this means the last vestiges of my hopeless romanticism are going down the tubes as I type. I'm not saying true love doesn't exist, I've seen it in action, but rather many women go through life unhappy because their constantly holding reality up to imagination--they think that someday "the one" will appear and he will make them feel...well, the way we all feel when we watch our favorite romantic movie. You'll feel alive and excited and not sure you can control yourself even though you've always been in control. The love will be so overwhelming, at least in the beginning, that you'll both want to be together all the time. He'll look at you and you'll know he couldn't possibly love anyone more than he loves you. So on and so forth. By this age we all know the drill.

But in this modern society of constructed romance, I wonder how often men are held up to an invisible standard that they can no longer fill anymore than women can fulfill the Madonna/whore complex. It's already seen in the way young boys worry about their physique almost as much as young girls do. But I think it's also apparent in the cliché "nice guys finish last." It was mentioned recently that women don't want "nice guys" and I don't think that's it at all--no one seeks out abuse except a very few, but many seek out adrenaline; women want the rush of love and the excitement of whirlwind romance. We want to be loved so much our guy is driven beyond his rock solid control. It's one romance novel cliché after the other. There are minor differences in everyone's fantasy of course, but the basic kernels are there.

But here's the rub: men are people too. That means as unsexy as I am at times in all my independent gaseous righteousness, there's a guy out there who just doesn't have it in him that day to hold you while you cry because he's had a hard day too. A guys isn't always capable of pursuing you until you give in because maybe he was hurt too bad in the past and has developed a sense of self-preservation (something all romance characters seem to decidedly lack). Or, maybe, just maybe, on occasion my crazy is more off-putting than adorable. Instead of loving me inspite and because of it, I might succeed at a skill I honed in my earlier years--pushing people away and being generally unpleasant.

And so I consider all those possibilities, and I think about all the times I've watched/read romances where the heroine absolutely debases herself to win her love and how I've thought each time I watched/read it "I'm screwed" because I know I never would, that perhaps--I'm only saying perhaps--social constructions of love, romance, and prince charming have caused me and other women to judge men in a way we were previously unaware of. And that sucks. It sucks for a couple of reasons; the first is that it would be really, really sweet to have some crazy romantic story that ended up with unbelievable happiness for the rest of my life. And second, if I acknowledge the possible archetypes I've been holding men up to, then I have to realize what I've done to judge the men I've known by those archetypes. As I need another abstract, ideological debate going on in my head examining my motivations. One would think I would tap out at some point.

I've always known that I'm irritated by women who talk about "training" men as if they were some sort of puppy, and women who vacillate in committed loving relationships because they aren't sure of they guy is "the one" irritate me too. But it has never occurred to me that part of the problem is that there is no prince charming any more than there is a femme fatale waiting to marry. So women are either bitter that no guy will ever be the fantasy because the fantasy doesn't exist--which is true, but not for the reasons they think--or the woman holds out on her own relationship thinking there might be something better.

It's a thought. I would guess there is a male equivalent as well.

In any case, I leave you with this hoping that maybe I'll stumble across real love tonight at Barnes and Noble--I figure it's a bonus if he's a vampire.