The Baggage Handler

My three best girlfriends and I have a talent for dating men who provide terrific anecdotal value. However, after all the rosé-fuelled stories, a girl must reveal whether she, you know, ‘likes him’. So we devised some simple labels to categorise a guy’s potential.

The first is the Twelve-Year-Old, which means the guy in question is too young/silly/inappropriate to be anything other than a bit of fun. (No meeting of the parents.)

The next is Not The Father Of My Children, meaning he’s good on paper, is definitely relationship-able, but falls just shy of being The One. Perhaps you just don’t ‘feel that spark’. (Fine to meet the parents.)

The third is the Baggage Handler. He could be The Father Of Your Children, except for the fact that he’s hauling around a mountain of issues that may include, but are not limited to: the ghosts of ex-girlfriends, deeply entrenched insecurities, or a pathological inability to commit. (Will freak out at the very idea of meeting the parents.)

The BH’s issues, which are initially hidden beneath veils of infatuation and lust, will inevitably stop your fling from developing into a relationship of any substance. You’ll be forced to eventually write him off, citing intense head-screwing as the reason. (Provided he hasn’t already written you off.)

Maddeningly, it’s often these confusing suitcase-carriers that we like the most. Their nonchalance and unpredictability become addictive and, even if we know in our hearts it can amount to nothing, we keep buying tickets to their performance.

Maybe we like them because of that human reflex to gravitate towards a challenge. In theory, we all eventually learn that the nice guys are the ones that deserve our attention. But until then, we will dance with men staggering under baggage so heavy they can barely see what’s in front of them, let alone you standing right beside them.

Curiously, they’re aware they’re carrying baggage. In fact, they wear it like an accessory – it defines them. And they almost always warn you, if you choose to notice. They cloak you in affection and SMSes one day, and cite a need for ‘space’ the next. Their baggage causes them to be cautious and unreliable, because… they’ve been heartbroken or ego-stomped previously.

They tell us they might have feelings for their ex, and still we hang around. Sadly, fewer things are more compelling than a slice of lukewarm rejection. But it’s not our job to unpack their bags. Don’t be fooled by his veneer of being tortured: it’s self-indulgence propelling him to play victim, and if you’ve dealt with your issues, he can face his.

Of course, it isn’t just the boys loading up the Louis Vuittons. We too are guilty of flitting around Single Town with handbags full of unresolved emotions. But generally, it’s the boys who fail to properly exorcise their relationship demons.

Invariably, the Baggage Handler will collapse under the weight of his own load. And if you’re not careful, you’ll come tumbling down with him. Because he will go back to his ex; he will rack off overseas; he will find another girl to distract him. It’s just a question of when. Don’t doubt the word of a boy who tells you he’s unfit for loving. If he doesn’t know what he wants, how can he possibly give you what you want?

Until the Baggage Handler finds a way to lose all that excess luggage, you’re better off with a guy holding a slick little carry-on – he’s got a free hand to clasp yours and he’s able to stand up straight to see that glorious, clear blue sky.

Author: Zoe Foster