Magic Pens

My mom used to take me to the mall when I was a kid. In the mall there were always these guys who would sit in a stand selling something like magic pens or glitter tape or magic trick sets. We would go up and they would show us how their stuff worked. The magic pen guy had a bunch of drawings he had done with the pens. You could draw in one color then you could draw over it and the color would change. He did a drawing for us and flirted with my mom as he let me play with the pens.

Whenever my mother brought a man home I would always hate him. It was some sort of instinct I had. It did not really matter who he was or what he did. Still, I would hate him. He would give me lego set or a dino cup golf or something--some sort of peace offering. Always this toy showed they knew little about me. It would be for an age group I had outgrown or a something I did not have an interest in. I am certain I must have liked some of the gifts these men gave me, but I do not remember. What I most remember after recieving these gifts was feeling an overwhelming sadness wash over me. This sadness was an innate knowledge that for a time my mother was prepared to ignore this man's flaws and whatever misery he might bring us. To her it was at least better than suffering the terrible loneliness she felt when she was by herself. It was also the sadness of knowing, at my age, I would never be able to fully articulate this feeling. In a couple months he would be gone and the whole thing would repeat again.

I remember during a dinner party wearing Christmas stockings, skating around our dining room playing hockey with a man. I was maybe five years old. His goal post was a door at one end of the room and the other end was mine. "You're dead meat!" he said. I remember him saying this--I had never heard this saying before. I could tell this man was playing with me to get closer to my mother. Maybe the man thought playing with me like this would make her think he could be a good father.

Now I am able to spot a crappy boyfriend in an instant. If you were to ask me "should I dump my boyfriend?" I would tell you. Nine times out of ten I think you should probably dump your boyfriend. If you are asking someone: "should I dump my boyfriend?" this is more often than not a signal your boyfriend sucks. Usually the person who asks this question already knows the answer but is not quite ready to say it aloud--really they are wondering how to dump their boyfriend rather than if they should.

When I was twelve my mother asked me "would you be upset if I stopped seeing John?". I told her she should try to make it work because I thought if it did work she would be happy. I regret playing along with the game. I know now their relationship was doomed to failure and he was abusive and shitty and in any situation you find yourself asking a twelve year old for advice about your relationship you should probably end that relationship.

I hope I do not imply I am any good at all at being a boyfriend. I simply feel I am very good at identifying shitty boyfriend red flags. Really, though, the average man is a scrotum pig and for this reason we are not very well suited for dating. My personal experience has demonstrated--for the most part--we are miserable worms who don't really deserve any of the love or affection given to us. Once we make this realization we will have begun to learn how we can start deserving that love.