Recently my Fiance’, whom I had been with for the past five years, dumped me. Not only did the initial sting intensify with the settling in of separate lives, but the endless string of payments on a pricey engagement ring are little monthly reminders all screaming, “You giant tool.”

Truth is, I was miserable, too. She wanted me to be someone I’m not (Jake Gyllenhaal I think). And I wanted her to be someone she isn’t (A wife and the mother of my unborn children). I’m still looking for a wife and want children more and more each day. Really, I think I want a reason to wake up everyday that involves more than just me doing “X” (read: work, reading, writing, viewing virus riddled videos filled with poor acting and great lighting, etc). So, in my desperate attempt at uncovering the hidden qualities that make men desirable mates for suitable wives and future mothers I turned to the Dalai Lama of modern romantics, Matthew McConaughey.

Why him? Because he’s been in more of those types of movies than Bradley Cooper. Because, in his worst day, he is everything that men strive to be (to women), and because, if given the opportunity, I would sleep with Matthew McConaughey–just kidding. But all kidding aside, he’s been in plenty of movie depicting the “sail away into the sunset” endings we have all been fed since birth. Problem is–it’s bullsh**!

Okay, in all fairness, I should offer myself for rebuke from the masses (which, btw, is who I hope finds this blog). So, if you have a “sailed into the sunset” type of relationship, now is your chance to rebut me. I’ll be back momentarily.

Okay, looking here while swallowing the last bite of a turkey on rye and–damn. Just as I thought. No rebuts. Why? Because as human beings we are all wired to have flaws and see the flaws in everyone else and everything else. But we are all secretly hopeless romantics who filter our world views through Matthew McConaughey’s eyes. We weigh our realities against the illusion that everything will eventually work out in the end, and you know what–sometimes it does.

So, because this isn’t a therapy session or the sequel to “Eat, Pray, Love” I will make my point and conclude. In addition to being hopeless romantics, we are also a species that believes in fairy tales to the point that we judge reality against a weighted scale of fantasy endings. It sounds sad, but in truth, these stories exemplify that which is at the depth of our cores: The desire to love and to be loved; the need for companionship; to care for someone and be cared for in return. Or, in my case, to not die alone, wallowing in a pool of self loathing, Bourbon soaked depression believing that the only suitable mate was there and I lost her. She was beautiful, funny, thin, shallow, and unwilling to put anyone else (especially children) before her own desires. In short, the wrong one who I still desperately miss.

In the end, it’s time. Time to start fresh and let the painful lessons that life throws our way sink in. It’s time to move on. So, here’s to moving on, and the start of a new adventure. I believe it’s called, “Failure To Launch” or “Ghosts Of Girlfriends Past”. Not sure. ‘Til next time.