The Breaking Point

I can count on one hand how many people in my life I’ve actually felt a deep emotional attachment to and even though I think it’s pretty lame, what can you do? It almost always ends in this physical illness that impacts my entire life’s activities. It’s not like I lose the will to live or anything dramatic like that but it seriously makes me physically ill not to have control over something I care so much about.

It’s terrible because any attempt you make to help the other party understand is futile…you can’t make someone understand a feeling when they just don’t care. Feelings aren’t meant to be understood anyway, they’re meant to be felt, amirite? It’s worse when things end amicably because you have no reason to convince yourself never to talk to that person again. And even worse when it’s like “you didn’t do anything, it’s just me.” Right, but it wasn’t “you” for that last ____ months so why now? No explanation…just an excuse.

I just feel like I don’t really know what to do to entertain myself until this feeling passes. It always does, but when I dwell on something I dwell on something. And what the hell, he just doesn’t think about me at all? Because I think about it all damn day. And every time I check my phone, my stomach drops to my feet because there is nothing. Verification of what I already know– he doesn’t give a shit. My phone is on silent so I can’t hear him not texting me.

The thing I think that upsets me the most is him saying it’s not necessarily that he doesn’t want a relationship as much as it is that he’s scared to be in one because he doesn’t want to get hurt. So the obvious alternative is to hurt me instead? How nice. I mean it’s pretty obvious you don’t want to get hurt…no one does. Including me, surprise.

I’m so pissed I keep telling myself not to get involved with the next guy and the next and the next and I’m just an idiot who doesn’t listen over and over. Honestly, it’s kind of a lesson I deserve until I finally learn  to stop opening up to people.

Now it’s just playing the waiting game until I get the F over him.

Welcome Back to the Shit Show

At this point, it’s my fault. I’ve crossed the point where you can no longer make excuses for staying with someone because you know all too well how damaged they are and that they will ruin you somehow, too. So here I am– back to the can’t eat, can’t sleep, stuck in my own mind, drowning in my own thoughts kinda place and I’m not even angry at him for driving me here because it’s my own damn fault. All the warning signs were there, including the fact that he told me in plain English he isn’t good with relationships or (“ship” as I liked to call ours) but how does that old, stupid saying go? You can’t help who you fall for?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though…I was, by no means, in love with this kid. I cared about him but I am inherently a caring person being of the female nature, so that was unavoidable. I tried as much as I could to keep a safe distance so I wouldn’t care more than he did. No let me rephrase that, so I wouldn’t care too much more than he did. Isn’t that always how it goes? Even when they want you they don’t want you enough. Ya know?

But anyway, the point of this is that I’m in the middle of my sulking stage and I need to play this out fully in order to move on to the next stage of moving on. But the thing about this one was that despite how fragile I knew this ship was, and perhaps the failures of others who have tried to pursue this venture with him in the past, I felt like none of that mattered because we were kind of happy together. He didn’t mind that I was a nerdy weird freak and I didn’t mind that he was a freak in his own right, too. This one though, this particular disappointment, has come as kind of a hard blow. It’s hard, no matter what, to feel like someone doesn’t find you worthy or care about you. And I’m probably being slightly dramatic because I don’t think he just didn’t care, but I think he didn’t want to care as much as I wanted him to and no matter what I did or who I was, maybe he wasn’t even capable of being who I wanted him to be.

No, not maybe. Definitely. He told me he wasn’t that guy and that he couldn’t be. He told me and I knew it but still went for it. There really is no one to blame but myself. He didn’t want the responsibility of someone else’s happiness depending on him. I get that. It’s a heavy load. He told me and I knew it. I knew it but I ignored it because when we were together, he actually was that guy. Maybe unintentionally. Maybe by accident. But he definitely was that guy in person when we were together. It’s when we would leave each other that I could feel not just physical distance growing. And I guess that’s why I stayed longer than I knew I should; because I’d see glimpses of how great he was and how happy that made me feel. Maybe that’s why this one hurts more than the others. 2012 has not been kind to my dating life, but all the other disappointments only seem like they were just practice for this– the 2012 Grand Finale of Failures.

There’s this part of me that wants to believe after the new year, my bad luck will disintegrate and I can try again with someone it didn’t work with in the past– or him– and it will actually work. Like it’s actually the year bringing me bad luck and not just my own dumb decisions. Then there’s this whole other part of me that wants to fall of the face of his earth. Either to grant him his wish of a life without me or to prove to him what a mistake he made. We always want that, though. We always think guys will come to their senses after they’ve “lost” us. Haha…oh the desperation. Some of them do, I’ll give us that benefit of the doubt.

What I find the strangest about this is it’s always this little feeling I have suppressed somewhere that never goes away. When I start to get used to the happiness and the comfort and familiarity of a person, most of all the comfort, there is that nagging feeling I have that at some point, whatever detector guys have that can sense I feel that way is gonna go off and he will drag me back to reality where I don’t belong to him and there is no security or stability. I’d call myself crazy if I couldn’t prove myself right, but I can and I have and I will again, I’m certain.

And it’s not the title I’m worried about. I don’t care what kind of “ship” it is, it’s not the determination of that that I’m worried about. It’s the loss of a person. It’s the loss of a little bit of happiness I found with someone. It’s the loss of some hope I held on to. Surely we all find it again once it’s lost, but not without it taking some kind of affect on us. And obviously it’s too soon now to feel alright since I’m still licking open wounds. Evidently the “ship” we were in was a sinking one.

I’m hopeless, though. You know I won’t tell anyone that we’re no longer speaking for several reasons, but one of them being the off chance we might see each other again. I don’t want everyone hating him for reasons I can’t bring myself to hate him for. Maybe it’s because I understand him more than the other people. Or maybe things haven’t fully set in and as soon as they do, I will feel myself hating him, too. For the denial and rejection. For sucking the hope out of me. For being the cherry on top of the most ill-fated year of my love life. Or for telling me the truth about who he is and giving me no choice but to believe it. But like I said, at this point, it’s my fault.

Pick Me. Choose Me. Hire Me.

Almost a whole year has passed since I’ve graduated with my master’s degree. That means I’ve been applying for jobs for almost an entire year without any success. I’m starting to wonder if maybe my approach is all wrong. I have all the necessary requirements, yet it always seems there is someone better…or perhaps luckier…who is chosen. So in my last attempt to crack the code, I wrote one final “cover letter,” crossed my fingers, and sent it out into the world. Here she is.

Dear hiring manager:

Rumor has it jobs are pretty hard to come by at the moment, as indicated by our astounding unemployment rate. And while I’m no more than another faceless applicant keeping you from happy hour and droning on about why I want this job, I felt compelled to throw my hat in the ring because I have a master’s degree that I’d like to put to use at some point. At the very least, I have some education to support my candidacy.

I am applying for an open position at your company because I feel I am the best candidate for it. Here’s to hoping you feel similarly. I would love to dazzle you with a carefully crafted letter of an in-depth explanation of all my qualifications, but it’s already listed on my resume and that would be redundant. I can’t imagine how painfully boring your job must be to read hundreds of overly enthusiastic letters from overly confident people who have nothing more to write about than their fancy list of accomplishments.

Nothing that I’ve done or that they’ve done will really distinguish us from the whole lot, unless you somehow found someone whom once was Ryan Seacrest’s assistant, almost got kicked out of Europe, and wrestled a bear. Coincidentally enough, that happens to be me. Okay, I didn’t wrestle a bear. There were bears wrestling each other. But I was a nearby spectator. The optimal word being “nearby.” And the Europe incident was an honest misunderstanding, but that German fellow had no interest in listening to our side of the story until I tracked him down, cornered him in one of the train compartments, and demanded he listen to me. I even threw a few lines of French in there for good measure. So there you have three solid and colorful examples of how helpful, determined, persuasive, and brave I am. Regretfully, I am not fluent in a foreign language, but if you need someone to speak broken French to order food or ask for directions, I’ve got your back.

Seriously though, does anyone even read these? I’m writing this under the assumption that most of the time they’re thrown in the recycling bin, never to play a role in the fate of my selection or, God forbid, rejection. But if you have made it this far, one more skill I’d like to point out are my excellent communication skills. Sure, English is my first language and grammar is an elementary level subject, but since the birth of social media, nevermore have I been alarmingly aware of the general population’s failure to master it. 

Other things to consider, which are not included in my resume: I don’t steal other people’s lunches out of the fridge, I have considerably good hygiene, I don’t pop my gum or chew with my mouth open, and I’m an eternally single, male-loathing cynic, free from the distractions of relationships or children, which I know has to count for something because it always comes up in interviews. Now you don’t have to find some clever way to ask without offending me. You’re welcome.

In closing, thank you for considering me for this position. I know I haven’t met you, but I swear I’m not lazy. I have all the capabilities, so hire me maybe?

Cordially,

Alia

Results still pending.

Vampires Have Feelings, Too

Oh haaaayy Happy Halloween.

Alright, let’s pick up where we left off. To make a short story long, I’m kinda seeing a guy that I like marginally more than I’ve liked any other guy in a while. Until last week when he played Houdini and flaked out for a few days….no, I still like him a lot. That’s part of the problem. It’s not like he did anything wrong, okay, because he’s not my boyfriend and if he doesn’t want to talk to me for a few days, that’s his prerogative. I didn’t exactly appreciate the way he executed it, but whatever. No harm, no foul. I think one of the reasons I was so angry about it is because it seems that every guy this year has done something similar and I was just getting frustrated. No, I am frustrated.

This has never been a problem for me before. This has literally never happened, where these guys are all about me in the beginning and then weeks later are like “oh no, absolutely not, no relationships for me.” I mean, of course things haven’t worked out with guys in the past (hi, I’m single) but never the same excuse from multiple guys in the same fashion and the same situation…even the same name in some cases– and for it all to happen this year. And I know I’m the common denominator so spare me. But I can’t figure out what I’m doing differently now than I did before! Nothing… Seriously, it freaks me out. It’s like Groundhog Day.

So anyway, my anger wasn’t completely directed at him, but more at men in general. So I guess nothing has really changed from any of my other “experiences.”

Back to the point. So apparently a post I made on Facebook was misconstrued, he thought it was in reference to him, and he thought it was the start of something dramatic. To be clear, I’m an idiot, and the shit I write on Facebook is for pure dumb humor. In retrospect, maybe the timing was off. Talking to a new guy, posting a status about guys…yeah, I can see the miscommunication. But I’m also a crazy person who will go directly to the source if I’m pissed off. Passive-aggressive is not in my nature; there really is no mistaking whether I’m mad at you or not.

And if he got freaked out that my Facebook status was possibly about him, imagine if he knew I was writing a whole post about him on my blog. Psycho alert. He shouldn’t feel special, though. I write about every guy I meet who messes with my head, intentional or not. Like I said, the Taylor Swift of blogging.

Okay, let’s get back on track. So I get where he is coming from. I’d freak me out, too. Did you see those fangs?? And I’m trying to be understanding of the fact that he wants to take it slow before engaging in a full blown relationship. Cool, same page. I like you but if I have to unlike you later, done. That’s not the big deal. The big deal, or rather, the small issue is that I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me seeing other guys.

Why is this a problem, you ask? If I like the dude, suspending all other contact with the opposite sex should be no problem, right? Well, yeah. Especially when I find out that one of the guys I was seeing more than likely has a child on the way. Just a small detail he forgot to mention over dinner. (Ah, the single life. Never a dull moment.) But it’s like, I will respect that you don’t want me to see other guys, but you don’t want to put a title on us. But without the “title,” I really don’t get to have any expectations of him. “Him,” whomever he may be. I’m using the current guy because he is currently the guy I’m seeing…no need to freak out about it.

All I can really expect is that neither one of us are seeing other people. Or at least neither of us should be and I know I can carry my end of that deal without any problems. But what does that mean for when I’m bored and none of my friends can come out to play and I want someone to hang out with, go to dinner with, watch a movie with…is hanging out on a weekday moving too soon? Is hanging out for no reason too relationship-y? Is he gonna freak out if I need him two nights in a row? Would making plans with him to be my wedding date, for example, be too committal and send him running off to his safe place for another 72 hours? Why should I have to worry about this shit? If you don’t want me to have other options, then you make yourself my option. Right?

And since when does spending time with someone count as a relationship? Relationships are this whole other level of crap where you have to talk about serious stuff and impress the family and basically run things by your probation officer before anything is approved and that’s not what I want or need. But, I do want to spend time with him and talk to him at least once a day. Does this somehow make me certifiable? I don’t want to talk to him every day like “what are you doing why did it take you 4 minutes to respond to my text who is she?” kinda thing, I just like him and wanna know what’s new with his life and how his day is going. I think about him occasionally throughout the day. Does this make me clinically insane?

There is a whole slew of responsibilities that come with the “title,” but I don’t think being exclusive is the same as being in a relationship. But there has to be some level of accountability so I know I’m not just wasting my time again. And I don’t think that every failed relationship is a waste of time. I just think that if some guy is going to try and spend time with me and then get super scared about spending time with me, well yeah, that’s a waste of time.

Anyway, as I’m trying to be sensitive to his, unfortunately very common fear of assuming the boyfriend role, I’d like him to maybe consider my feelings on this crap as well. I won’t push it, because I genuinely like him and would like to see things progress (s.l.o.w.l.y.), but I’ve also never been the sit around and wait kind of girl. Maybe things will work out for the best. Or maybe he’ll find my blog and file for a restraining order. I suppose I’m willing to take that risk in the name of creative expression.

Excuses: Man’s Best Friend

I realize I’m like the blogging version of Taylor Swift, but guys give us a lot of material to work with because of the endless new ways they figure out how to screw girls over. It is, of course, ultimately our fault for continuing to open up to guys even after we swear up and down we won’t…but what are we gonna do? Hug trees?

Eeh, I’ll pass.

If 2012 isn’t the year of the world-ending apocalypse, it should be famously known as the year my love life ended. Not that there hasn’t been a variety of guys I’ve wasted my time with, but that’s just what it was — a waste of time. The equation to my singledom has been discovered as:

Step 1: Guy sees girl and initiates conversation

Step 2: Girl responds and continues conversation

Step 3: Guy and girl hang out multiple times

Step 4: Guy inexplicably runs away

Step 5: Cross multiply to find the value of x.

There are a few outlying variables to this problem. First off, I’m not even certain that I, myself, want to be in a relationship so there hasn’t been any persistence on my part to meet the family or look at engagement rings or even ask if we’re exclusive. Guys seems to think that when they get the slightest bit of undivided attention from a girl, she wants to get married. And yes, the popularity of pinterest wedding boards has probably perpetuated a stereotype that all girls wanna do is find prince charming and get married. And so what? Maybe I do. But who the fuck gave you an idea that I regarded you as anything close to my prince charming?

But just as any other relationship and/or friendship doesn’t work out, we get over it. Especially since, in my situation, I’ve really only hung out with these guys for a few weeks. And I get it, I’m a total freak. I have a weird sense of humor, I have questionable taste in music, I’m stubborn…like, fine. I can deal with the fact that I wasn’t really what you were looking for, either; however, maybe you should have been smart enough to size me up in the beginning. I never change. I am exactly who I am the first time we talk as I am the last. My personality, while it may be unbearable, is consistently unbearable.

Anyway, so after each miserable failure, I do what any frustrated girl would do — insincerely vow to never speak to men again. But then when I obviously do meet someone new, I adjust myself. What did I do last time that could have scared some guy off? Okay, this time I won’t talk about women’s suffrage. And I keep doing that until, by process of elimination, I should eventually not scare a guy off. And then I realized that it’s not necessarily the topics I’m discussing or the things I’m doing or the fact that I drool in my sleep; it’s that somehow, somewhere, at some point, the dude works up some giantly preposterous idea that I want a relationship with him. Maybe it’s because I don’t volunteer the information that I’m also seeing other guys or maybe I’m just that good at balancing my time with these guys that I seem to be giving them my undying attention. Either way, it is absurd that guys are so spooked by this notion that they themselves have completely fabricated.

Okay, so they like to do this “drop off the face of the universe” magic trick because it’s subtle and adult like and not rude at all. Oh noo wait, it’s the actions of a small child whose balls haven’t fully descended yet. Why don’t we try this — use your words. At this point in time, you’re fully capable of forming complete and coherent sentences or our relationship– or ship, I guess….whichever is less scawy– would have never progressed beyond the first conversation.

I think we can all agree that once you’ve established that you are, in fact, hanging out with someone and making plans with them, you don’t have to wait for the guy to contact you. I’m not saying we should be overwhelming, but if I have a thought or question, do I have to wait every time for the guy to be the first to say something? Once in a while, I think we can make some allowances. So if you’ve all of the sudden let your imagination run rampant and you decide “uh, I really don’t want to hang out with this person anymore” and they text you to hang out, just say no. Why go through the trouble of sending excuses and prolonging the inevitable? Is it that terrifying to just say “I’m sorry I think we’re on different pages and I don’t want to lead you on or waste your time”? Now you’ve managed to be mature about it. You’re still a giant pussy, but no matter what you do that’s probably inescapable.

I think my favorite part about the rejection is how unwarranted it is. “I just think you’re moving too fast” , “I’m really not ready for a relationship.” Well forgive me for forcing you to introduce yourself to me and take me on a date. I’m sorry that I didn’t know you existed until you made your presence known and inserted yourself into my life. Also, while you’re contemplating whether you’ve banged enough girls to properly prepare you to deal with the idea of just one for a while, I’ve been keeping my options open and seeing other guys so you can relax, bro. Conversely, if a guy told me he did not want me seeing other guys and therein lies the problem, it’s as easy as me not seeing other guys. I can manage to break things off without a paralyzing fear.

The point is, these things are just excuses. I don’t care if you’re “ready to be in relationship” or not– if you like someone, you wouldn’t care if you were in a relationship or a concentration camp. So spare me. The truth really is more like “I think your personality sucks” , “I met someone hotter than you” , “you’re way too dumb” , “I’d be embarrassed to bring you around my family.” —- any number of those things are the actual reasons why they’ve lost interest. But they wanna somehow pin it on something we’ve done wrong and ignore their own shortcomings. Yeah, we noticed yours, too. Like, I’m sorry that my list of the perfect man didn’t include a receding hairline but I was willing to overlook that because you bought me food and told me I was pretty.

So, I’m over being aggressively pursued and then being blatantly blown off. Next time a guy approaches me I’m going to kick him in his knee and spit in his eye. Here’s to being a crazy cat lady in the future.