Dear Luvdoc,
The only boy I’ve ever loved lives approximately 4913.39 miles away. When he came to visit me recently, it’d been two years since we’d seen each other in person. And he told me that he just wanted to be friends. Broke my heart again. I think I understand his motivations (distance factor, too much pressure, etc.), but then when I talk to him now, he tells me I’m his MPDG. And, minus the distance and his thoughtless lead-ons, I’m pretty sure we’re soul mates. Meanwhile, here in Austin things are looking pretty bleak dating wise, and I’m getting frustrated. Should I cross the pond? Or is he just fucking with me from a safe distance?
– I ain’t your MPDG
Yeesh, at that distance you pretty much have to be soul mates. Making that long of a journey in a corporeal state involves serious jet lag. It’s possible that when he told you he just wanted to be friends he was asleep. Next time when he does that, stick his hand in a bowl of water and see if he pees himself. When it comes to relationships – long distance or otherwise – it really helps to know what state of consciousness you’re dealing with. What I find particularly disturbing is this MPDG thing – disturbing because I had to Google that shit and I don’t like what I found. Manic Pixie Dream Girl? First of all, a manic is fun for about five minutes until you realize its code for “crazy bitch.” I prefer the term “Charlie Bravo” but that’s just because I’m classy. I also prefer go-go juice to pageant crack, and if I’m picking a dream girl, she does neither … although Smoochie might pick up some bonus points if she knows how to rock some daisy dukes and show her belly to the judges. Regardless, that MPDG thing is a sign – not necessarily of what you are but what he wants you to be. It also means that maybe he sees himself as a slow, boring caterpillar that you can somehow miraculously turn into a butterfly with your manic pixie dreaminess. Ask yourself: Do you want your soul mate to be a butterfly that can only be kept aloft by your bubbly effervescence, or do you maybe want someone who can be the pixie dust beneath your wings as well? It’s the classic dichotomy: Boat or anchor; gas or brakes, branches or roots … Maybe your pixie dust will lift him across the pond for another visit … or vice versa. In the meantime, you can bring some of that dream girl focus and energy to the townies and see what develops. If Austin is still a dry hole in another two years, maybe you can go visit him. If you do, stay sharp. Nobody likes a drowsy pixie.
This article appears in July 20 • 2012.