Give Me A Parade of Men

Give me a parade of men,

I’ll pick out only the bad apples.

I think I’ve learned my lesson.

Give me a parade of men,

I’ll only pick out the heartbreakers.

I learned my lesson, didn’t I?

Give me a parade of men,

And I’ll pick out some good ones

But they won’t stay that way for long.

Did I learn somethin here?

Give me a parade of men,

I’ll fine em with only one thing on their mind.

What was I to learn?

Give me a parade of men,

Of all shapes and sizes.

Have I learned anything from those gone by?

Hell, bring on the parade!

***

I thought of this as I pushed myself – sweating, strategically breathing – past the point of comfort into an increasing level of pain. There’s a metaphor here that could be made in regards to my love life. I was going to leave it up to you to figure out. Then, I rethought this and so I’ll lay it out for you nice and easy. In short: My love life thus far has been a parade of the worst guys within my reach. Perhaps a better metaphor would be a train wreck. And there you have it.

Anyway.

I’m running, a time I typically spend thinking deep thoughts and expelling physical energy as intense as my thoughts. Many times these deeply intense thoughts revolve around men. Mildly embarrassing but, nonetheless, true.

So. I’m running. I’m home in Decatur. This is a fact and a place that never fails to prompt me to take a trip down memory lane, a lane filled with the parade of boys and men who make up the history of my love life. 

Hindsight is 20/20, right?

Ooooh yeah!

Yes, looking back I can see just how stupid and/or naïve I was when I

1)      Picked the men I did,

2)      Believed the myriad of lines and lies that came out of their mouths,

3)      Continued to date/ like/“love” them long after I figured out that they probably weren’t the right/greatest/nicest guy for me.

And yet, I wonder…

Have I really learned anything at all?

After all the heartaches, the tears, the all-night bitch-fests with the girls, the name calling, the disappointment and the acceptance that yet another man in my life has joined the ranks of those labeled “Not the One,” have I really gained any more knowledge than when I started dating/liking/“loving” these men?

The answer…is yes, and it’s no.

Yes, because I can look back and see where I went wrong, where I should have ended things, where I stupidly ignored good advice and/or my own screaming instincts.

Yes, because I have vowed and – for the most part – followed through by not making the same mistakes again.

Yes, because I’ve been able to impart my hard-earned wisdom on those younger or more naïve or less seasoned than me. These lessons should be good for someone other than me, right? Please, learn from my mistakes!

No, because I inevitably make excuses for why this situation is different from a previous one which is – looking back, of course – exactly the same but with a fresh twist on one or two minor details just for a little added pizzazz.

No, because I naturally focus on those one or two new twists between the last jerk and the new one. I do this and convince myself that it’s those one or two things that will make all the difference and this one will be the frog that turns into the prince.

No, because I fall for the same lines, same pet names, lies, compliments and false intimacies that the guy before this one told me. The only difference between Male 1 and Male 2 is the way they say them and how well they can pull it off. The real smooth ones do this without me realizing I’ve heard something like this somewhere before, that is, until it’s over and hindsight backhands me right across the face. 

The answer is yes and it’s no, because being the hopeless romantic I am I never stop hoping that the parade will end with the end-all man of my dreams. The Prince Charming to my Cinderella. The Frog that turns into the Prince at the touch of my lips. The man who will come sweep me off my beautiful feet and make up for all the jerks and morons before him. The Santa Clause at the end of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade (You know? The grand finale of the parade you wait the whole time to see?).

The answer is yes, and it’s no, because the parade is still moving along with no end in sight and I never stop hoping it will be cut short with a surprisingly abrupt but fantastic finale.

Until that happens… 

Hell, bring on the parade!