What's Love Got to Do With It?

A few years ago, a friend called me to tell me he was getting married. He wasn't anyone particularly special to me, but we'd known each other for quite some time and I appreciated the courtesy call. I was happy for him at first, but the more I thought about his pending marriage, the more upset I got. The thing is, when we'd talked a couple of months before, he told me he was still single. He was still pretty hung up on an ex-girlfriend, and while there was a new girl expressing interest, he just couldn't get excited about her. Something changed, though, because about six weeks later they were engaged.
What a difference six weeks can make! If I'm not mistaken, I can think of dozens of people who've gotten engaged in that amount of time, which-- and no offense is meant to such couples-- I think it's crazy. I guess because I'm such a waffler, and I know how fickle I can be, I can't imagine making a decision of such consequence in such a small span of time.
Regardless, I remember growing progressively more upset about my friend's engagement as the weeks went on. I was so agitated, I even managed to ruin a date with a perfectly nice guy because I told him about it. Being this date was my first (and last) with said gentleman, he wasn't really able to understand my problem and my obsession. He assumed, as most anyone in his position would have, that I was in love with the man in question, and that he was wasting his time. Truthfully, though, the situation was revelatory and paradigm-shifting and upsetting. How, I asked myself, could anyone go from indifference to true love in such a short amount of time?
What was worse was when I discussed the situation with my mother. She revealed such a shocking sentiment I thought I'd lose my lunch-- she told me that she thinks she and my father got married because they were both in the right place at the right time. More than having a fairy-tale romance, they both had just had major relationships go belly-up, and they wanted to be married. It worked out. WHAT? The thought of marrying someone just to not be alone is hideous to me. My parents were on the rebound?! My mom went on to say she thought my dad was still in love with his former flame for the first several years of their marriage. She said she didn't even know the girl's name or anything about her, but she wondered if he was still pining.
Fortunately, my parents ARE in love. I'm sure they loved one another to some degree at the beginning, but as tends to happen in good marriages, love grows and strengthens over time. They've had a happy life together, worked together, overcome things together, laughed together, etc., etc. But it was rather shocking to hear just how far their courtship had been from the Hollywood version of things.
And that's the thing you hear all the time-- "Love's not like in the movies." Well, I should hope not-- at least in my life. Except that I do. I totally do. Or perhaps worse, I find myself in the wrong movie pretty consistently.
Recently, I've mostly identified with Eva Peron as portrayed in Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical "Evita." Eva was a social climber, and surrounded herself with men who were going places. Now I don't think I'd trade someone in because something better came along, but I do think one of my problems with the men I've dated in the past has been their lack of direction and drive. There are, perhaps, several young men who fancy themselves in love with me (some of them have even been kind enough to tell me themselves), but these men do not work with my plans. I am incapable of loving them because they are stagnant. The bumbling fellow who stops in the middle of an intersection with a green light, freaking out because he thinks there may have been a red-light camera? I'm sorry. You must go forward. The chap making one quarter of the money I make? He sleeps all day and stays up all night and accomplishes next to nothing. And he's content that way. The moocher, the indecisive prat, the downtrodden loaf-- they are not acceptable.
Not that I'm looking to be the next Michelle Obama or anything (truthfully, I don't know that much about Michelle, but there's a lot to like about her). I know a guy who can't be away from his PDA, talks about his politically-important friends, and puts on such an air of snobbery to make anyone queasy, but the worst of his faults is his propensity for riding other's coattails. He's not doing anything on his own, really. He just wants to be famous by association. Kind of like all of Paris Hilton's friends. I'm not necessarily impressed with the well-traveled or the chap who got into this or that Ivy League grad program. Such men tend to rest on their laurels and because they achieved some mild success in their youth feel they've paid their dues and do nothing interesting or of import ever again. I'm looking for someone with a life-long drive for greatness and contribution-- someone I can work with and help, and who will help me. But maybe he only exists in the movies.
I like men who are going places. If I can't see some potential for growth and accomplishment, I move on. I cannot possibly saddle myself with someone who will wallow in mediocrity. Truthfully, one man of my acquaintance has a lot less certainty about where life will take him, but I strongly suspect he's a shoe-in for heaven, which keeps him in the running. I guess if you're determined to go somewhere, that's better than anything. However, if all the calls to settle down are tempered with the advice that I'm not going to get my fairy tale, I might as well marry someone to push and pull, who will push and pull me.