***This is an old post from Winter 2021 that I deleted and am republishing. The guy I wrote it about, one of my best friends, asked me where it dissappeared to and was dissappointed that I deleted it during one of my MML Cleanse sessions. So… it’s back!***
So how much trouble will I get in in the morning for this? You tell me…
In my defense, you’re the one who put the image of you singing naked in my head in the first place (albeit as a joke, but still).
So in ten years, you can blame yourself for this.
But no, I’m not writing this just to make fun of you about your dirty jokes. I do that enough to your face.
It’s about what this specific conversation brought to the forefront of my thoughts.
We’ll have to rewind quite a few months… like to beginning of the semester.
Among the myriad of crushes that I have, you were one. Which is basically nothing. I’m pretty sure I have an eye on like 95% of the male on campus. I mean, I am me. Ten years into the future when I have a spouse and children, I will still have my eye on all the hotties around me. I won’t do anything about it, but have you heard of “look, don’t touch”? It’s just who I am, I can’t help it.
Which is fine.
And then we started talking.
And do you remember that one conversation we had that one night? Which served as the origins of our Inside Joke. Which I cannot describe in further detail here because it would be too easy to know exactly who you are.
Well… let’s just say I was definitely thinking about something different when you said the word “costume”… Like the kind of different that we probably shouldn’t have been talking about at something A.M. In truth, I sas on the verge of saying many inappropriate things in a terrible attempt at flirtinf because why not. But you completely misunderstood what I was getting at and I completely forgot about.
Because you made me laugh.
You always somehow bring a smile to my face. Yeah, most of the time, you’re just being dumb on purpose, but you always make me smile.
Our back and forth banter reminds me of a sitcom/romcom thing.
I don’t know… am I being dumb? I’m being dumb.
Dammit, I like you.
Like I still like you. Maybe more than I did before. I don’t know.
It’s a little confusing before in all honesty, you’re not exactly my type. I mean, you know my type. My type is a fifty-something-year-old man rockin’ the salt and pepper look. And to be honest, I don’t know if I ever really had time to crush on you much after that night. Or a many people for that matter.
I was so wrapped up in all this drama with my First Love and my Best Love and Bestest Friend and my Sister from Another Mother and my Almost Last Love and the Boy in the White Hoodie who became the Man in the Blue Suit and then I got nostalgic and started thinking about Mr. Mystery Man all over again, and of course the Idiot follow right behind, and Merry-Go-Round Man, and Tinder Guy, and Tinder Guy 2.0, and blah blah blah blah blah…
And then earlier when we were talking and things got a little… innappropriate – but somehow still decent – the spiral began.
My first thought was why the fuck can’t I get this image of him naked out of my head. My second was… I kind of enjoy the picture. My third was how accurate is this picture but that’s a complete different conversation for another time or maybe mever, I don’t know, you tell me. And then my fourth – after the sexualness of it all dissipated because I got hungry and started focusing on food instead – he’s sweet. I like him.
You have this nice balance of being dumb for fun and pretty smart too. But you don’t have a giant ego and you’re just good. And funny. I don’t remember a single bad moment between us. And that says a lot. Considering I’ve driven away, or nearly driven away, or otherwise had some sort of conflict with most of the people I know this year that are close to me. Not all. But most.
Which I think brings me to why the hell I’m writing to you via MML instead of just talking to you. Well, for one, because texting all of this to you would be too much of a hassle. Also, I know for a fact you read all my posts anyway. Also… I don’t know how to tell you that I like you or ask you out on a date or anything like that because I come with this giant label saying:
WARNING: SHE’S SEVERELY EMOTIONALLY DAMAGED.
It’s like trying to sell a broken Barbie doll to a child hoping they won’t notice. But let’s face it – they always notice. And yeah, fine, perfect doesn’t exist.
I could care less about perfect.
I can admit I’m sometimes too stubborn and usually more than selfish. Character flaws that I can’t fix. And that’s fine. I shouldn’t have to.
But what about the fact that though I have worked so hard on my codepedency issues, there’s always a chance they come back?
Or that sometimes I freak out if someone I’m dating randomly goes incognito even if they’re genuinely busy with something else?
What about the fact that less than forty-eight hours ago, I was writing that I’m always going to romantically have a space in my heart vacant for my First Love and my Best Love, because they’re affected me as much?
I mean, who would willingly date a girl that openly admits that she’s hung up on not one, but two of her ex-whatevers and will never be over them?
No one sane to the best of my knowledge.
No one in the tangible realm of reality.
There’s a reason I contemplated spending rhe rest of my life with Raj rather than trying ti face the dating world again. It’s not even that I might get hurt. It’s me wondering who the frick is dumb enough ti date me? Not that I’m not loveable. I’m a darling, an angel from heaven with the wits and looks of a devil. But enough people have told me thus far that despite how amazing I can be, they still don’t want to be with me.
I mean, I’ve seen the way that men change when I love them. The distacing. The tears. The stress. “She’s crazy” – I’ve heard it my whole life. My first ex said his experience with me led to him basically having anxiety every time he tried to approach another woman. My second ex actually gave up relationships altogether.
And just because I asked for one chance, I saw the way my Almost Last Love grew so distant. And his response the other night when I told him that I still have feelings for my ex and think I may wanna give that another go?
Don’t get me wrong – I am so grateful that he agreed to still be my friend and in fact I think he’s more happy being my friend now that I’ve basically said he’s free from any promises he’s made me. I don’t know if that’s entirely a good thing or not. I mean, this is the first time that he’s given me a genuine smile in almost a month (albeit via text). Ouch.
I mean, it’s not on him. Or even if it was, how mad can I be? But what I don’t get, and it’s not just him, it’s five years worth of rejections…
And fine, if you tell me it’s because I’m a bad person, I’ll take it. Because morality is subjective and maybe I am the worst person you know.
But how can someone look you in the eye, tell you you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, you’re kind, reassure you a million times that you’re a good person and then tell you to go find someone else?
I don’t understand it.
I just don’t.
I know that people think they’re being nice when they tell me how nice I am… it’s not helping. Because all it does is confuse me. Because if I’m so fucking amazing, why the fuck do I keep getting my heart broken?
And then it hit me – my list.
I spent the past five years of my life chasing one love after another. Never took a single break. And people know. So they either see a girl they can take advantage of (and when they realize they can’t they run) or they see a girl that’ll always be after another. And who wants to be with that girl?
If someone I liked told me on a first date that they’ll always be hung up on their ex indefinitely and I just have to live with it, “cheque please” would’ve been the first words to come out of my mouth. I guarantee not every single person who said “no” said “no” because of this. There was one guy who said he couldn’t be with me because I didn’t follow his religion. Another who couldn’t be with a virgin. Those, those I can live with. Speaks to that whole “she’s just not my type” idea. But what about the rest of them? Yes, this is probably why. That, and if not that, because I usually always come on too strong. I can’t help it.
I love myself. And I love this life. But it gets so lonely sometimes. And abandonment issues plus simoultaneous commitment issues don’t make it easier.
And that’s one thing I cannot solve. I don’t know how. I don’t know if I ever will.
And it scares me.
Because the 21st Cent. is all about working on yourself. Working on being a good person and being successful and emotionally healthy. But how long am I supposed to work on myself? ‘Til I break? Too late. Already done. Too many times.
And I’m tired of relying on other people to pick up the pieces. There are so few of them. And I know it takes a toll on them too. But I don’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know why I have to.
And as bad as it sounds, as much as I love all the beautiful people in this world and I know so many of them love me or claim to, it’s just noto have someone who deems you their one and only is just… something so beautiful and special and I want that.
I do.
Which is why the second I remotely feel anything for someone, I have the urge to act on it. I can’t do the waiting game. I can’t hide how I feel. I can’t keep it all locked in a box at the back of my brain.
Because the only thing worse than facing rejection a million and one times is being alone for the rest of eternity.
This is not a love confessional. It started out as a way for me to just say “Hey, I like you, you wanna go out some time” and I just kind of spiraled… Like always…
I don’t even completely know how I feel about what I want on that front from you specifically. That’s a convo for another time. A one-on-one convo that probably shouldn’t happen via MML.
So yeah…
Until next time, I guess.
