Men and Myopia

The thing with being in love is that you become the most annoying person ever. Especially if you're a girl. Your uncalled for, eternally sunny disposition can be of gross irritation to an entire nation and its populace. But see, being in love, especially falling in love, is the best, most blinding feeling in the world. It doesn't matter who thinks what, as long as the apple of your affection is twinkling away at you. It makes you ecstatic, but also seriously myopic. 

The leading cause of my myopia is Funny Men. Let me explain-

I was watching Louis CK the other night and he's, MY GOD, such a riot! My insides were instinctively curling with want. Imagine a man who can make me laugh all day; why wouldn't any woman want that. I proceeded, in my usual obsessive gusto, to look him up online. Somewhere among lots of videos and text, here is what I found him say, "Marriage is just a larva stage to true happiness- which is divorce!" Followed by lots of laughs I'll admit, some even awkward, and sure I'll consider it very talented writing- merely a script, but it suddenly made me realise why I'd sworn off the funny boys and their stupid funny bones. 

Funny guys are my cryptonite. Or have become, I have come to realise. 

Take the desi-type-funny guy I dated when I was 21. Or the subtle-but-hilariously-funny guy I dated when I was 23. Or the whiny-funny guy when I was 27. They have two things in common. They were funny. And they were seriously immature. Like a special kind of immature (read escapist) that deserves a brand new adjective to describe it. 

FunnyGuy #1: Having lived in the south of India most of my life, my exposure to real-life people who could tell really great jokes in Hindi was limited. Very limited. I met him through work, and I admit I kind of didn't like him too much when I first met him. Actually, scratch that. I kind of hated him. He was new levels of difficult to work with. Never answering my calls, never following up on anything he was supposed to follow up on, disappearing at important times. That should seem like a great, big SIGNBOARD in my face, right? STAY AWAY. ESCAPIST AHEAD. But err, no, no. Myopic remember? 

I hung out with him, dated him, and laughed a lot. A LOT. Until one night, he decided to get wasted, and confess to me that he was in love with me. The words came out of HIS mouth. And yet I found that it was only barely ironic-funny when he immediately put on his running shoes (metaphorically obviously), and sprinted out of my life.

FunnyGuy #2: Eerrrmmmaaagawd, so damned witty. He was Chandler-meets-Jeeves-meets...well, I don't know who. But man, he was funny. He took my breath away. He also knocked the air out of me when after three years of fabulously entertaining laughs, he ran for the hills for no real reason. 

Literally. Ha ha.

Guess that sounds funny. But isn't.

FunnyGuy #3: This one is my fault entirely, but in my defense, it was kind of trial-basis- like an outfit I was trying on. He was so slapstick, and I don't even like slapstick, but others did, so I thought I'd swing it. Try it on, y'know? He was just so funny with his 24/7 whiny, disgruntled jokes. But three weeks into it, his whining-funny suddenly seemed to take on dementor-like qualities. He sucked the sunshine out of the world. As if, god forbid, something nice should happen to him- his world would end, wouldn't it? I was out of there as soon as I could find an exit sign. 

Truth is, I still haven't gotten over my Love-Funny-Guys myopia, and I will admit I'm still looking for that perfectly funny-but-mature guy combination. But hopefully in the meanwhile, I can find myself some thick glasses to repair my vision. A knock on the head will also help.