Oh, that bitch of technological advancement known as the telephone. How many of us sit around waiting to hear its siren call? You just KNOW it has to be him on the other end, finally calling you back as he said he would. But, no. It was only your mom asking you to pick up some cat food or a friend asking for some help on a paper. The siren has done it again. Led you closer to it, to touch it and respond to it, feeding you visions of your deepest desires, only to dash those desires and your heart to bits.
Sound bitter? A bit.
I spent the weekend on pins and needles waiting for a boy (Jablonski) to call me back as he promised he would. He said that he did want to hang out with me this weekend, but he just had to check out some plans with a friend and that he would call me back to let me know what time we could meet up. I am guessing since he never called me back that time to hang out would be Never In A Million Years.
I knew as I obsessively checked my phone every five minutes that I was being foolish, letting myself invest to much hope. He has a horrible track record for calling me back. I knew it was a long shot, told myself repeatedly that it was, but yet....I checked my phone like my life depended on it. Daring myself to believe that maybe this once it would work out.
In a time after He's Just Not That Into You, I see the signs that he is, indeed, probably not that into me. Not as much as I hoped or willed. Yes, he flirts with me when I see him and makes (empty) promises of dates or hanging out, but he could just be doing that because he knows I am interested. At this point, I don't really care to analyze why he does it or if he really does care about me in any way or if this is just part of some huge game we all end up playing.
What I do care about is how just because my phone fails to ring with his voice on the other end asking me to live a happily-ever-after, I am left crushed.
See, in my mind, him not calling me back is evidence that I am in fact, not lovable. I am not wanted. I am a throw away, something best left alone. Which on most days is not how I see myself, but on days like these, it is. Plus, the sting is worse this time than others. I ran into my ex and his girlfriend last weekend and that threw me for a loop. My ex always makes me feel that way. Disposable. Unwanted. Because of this, I feel this desperate need to validate myself outside of needing him or being with him, and this validation can only be gained through securing the affection of another male. If another man dates me or seems to find something valuable in me, that proves my ex wrong. I am a viable commodity in the dating world.
Which, of course, is so dumb and not true. But, the last couple of years with men (as this blog can attest) has taken its toll on me. I am left weakened and bruised. Moving back home has added to this defeated outlook because I see all my best friends from high school and classmates getting married or starting serious grown-up relationships. Some of which, if I am being honest, I feel don't deserve it. Sounds harsh, but, I did not grow up calling people fat cows and bitches repeatedly like they did so I find it hard to think they should find some sort of happiness or someone who loves them while I am left bitter and alone.
I don't know. I know there is no secret formula for finding someone to love. This is all just bullshit I will have to put up with until I find a guy that makes the bullshit worth it.
But, until Mr. Future comes into my life, I am left cursing my telephone and giving it a good toss across the room. :)
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Toilet Usage
Betrayal. It is such a basic component of human misery and tragedy. Intertwined with emotional feelings of passion or attachment, betrayal becomes even more Shakespearean and dramatic. We all deal with ranging degrees of betrayal in our lives. Each betrayal is significant to the way we approach future relationships or in the ways in which we decide which person to trust or confide in. A friend divulges a personal secret to an enemy. A significant other cheats on you. It leaves you weary and wary of relationships in general.
This is the story of my own little Shakespearean play. I would call it a tragedy, but I did not end up murdering anyone or killing myself. Nor will I call it a comedy because it stung so badly. So, let's just classify it as a history for now.
Second semester of my sophomore year I had a class with a super cute guy. After the first few weeks of class, I found out he lived in the same dorm as I did and we shared mutual friends. We established a quick camaraderie based on these facts. He moved to sit with me in the back of the class and we walked back to our dorm after class. With all this time spent together, we talked a great deal. I found out we had very similar taste in music, he had a great sense of humor and that he was a genuine nice guy, which are hard to come by. Based on these facts, I quickly cultivated a crush on him.
I found myself making sure I looked cute on the days I had class with him. I always looked forward talking to him and walking back from class with him. I talked to my roommates about him, sharing that I did have a pretty big crush on him.
As the weeks progressed, I started to think that maybe, just maybe, this guy kind of liked me, too. He knew I liked Kirby and during class he drew me a picture of Kirby. He would also make me little origami stars. I would take those stars back and put them on my desk. They were pretty sweet. He would also flirt with me, which is always a good sign.
Since I had already informed my roommates of him, I began asking for their input. These were girls I shared a confined space with. We were pretty close and I did consider them good friends and valued their opinions. They all agreed that he did sound at the least interested in me. They would tease me about him and ask me about any progress made with him. Things continued in this way for a long time. As time wore on, I let myself really start to believe this guy liked me. The signs were there. It just seemed like a fact.
Then I started to notice something...weird. One night, my roommate I shared a room with was talking to someone on AIM. We were talking and I asked her whom she was talking with. She informed me it was the guy I liked. I didn't really think too much of it though. They had met, and we all did have mutual friends. It did bug me, I am a girl and I was jealous, but I tried to not get too bent out of shape about it. Well, a couple of days later she informs me she is going to a concert with this guy and a group of our friends. It was a last minute invite from her, but I just declined. This one really took me by surprise. I got pretty pissed, but again, I calmed myself down thinking that it wasn't too out of the norm for a group of our friends to go to a concert together. A week later, we were all drinking and I came back to our room to see a small group of people, including him and her, in her bed. This did not settle right with me. So, before we went to bed that night I straight out asked her if she liked him. She protested, No, of course not! He was really cool and cute, but she knew I liked him and would never do that. I told her if she did, that it was fine, I just did not want her to lie to me. She said, No, this was not an issue.
I don't know why I still thought he might like me after this. I just held out hope. It became pretty obvious that he was pretty interested in her, but he still seemed interested in me, too. I was all sorts of confused. I decided to stay optimistic. Which was not the smart move. I should have cut my losses then.
One of my other roommates had a birthday and the girl I shared a room with decided to throw her a surprise party. That was one of the worst/best nights of my life. Best because it pretty much solidified my friendship with Miss Allison Richardson. Worst because: At the party my bedroom roommate and the guy were extra touchy feely, something I took notice of. We left before they did. When they came back to MY dorm room, they were partially clothed, wet, and embracing each other. They had got in the hot tub together. Upon seeing this, I got up, washed my face and brushed my teeth, then went to bed. She came in a bit later to grab some blankets. The next morning I found them on our living room floor together, peacefully sleeping. I wanted to throw water on them or something drastic, but instead I devised a plan to get out of the room for a couple of hours, let them wake up and leave, then come home to them not being there.
That plan did not work. Instead, they stayed in our mutual living space until about 3 or 4 the next afternoon. I heard them kissing a couple of times. I was hurt, humiliated, angry, and sad.
I was so upset that she could do that to me after we spent so much time talking about how much I liked him and if he liked me. She did not have the decency to go to his room to do whatever, but instead came back to our room where she knew I would be. Nor could she have got up early and had him leave, knowing that it was not a good situation. I thought she was a friend, someone I could trust, but that just proved me so wrong.
And him. He knew I liked him. It wasn't a secret. Yet, he had no qualms about hooking up with my roommate in my dorm room. My feelings were obviously no concern of his. That hurt the worst. Knowing that I mattered so little to him. I was such an insignificant being to him that he felt it was fine to lay in my living room all day long with her cuddling and what not. Which was a pretty big equivalent to a huge slap in the face and punch in the gut. He later informed me that he made the wrong choice in that situation and that he did really like me, I wasn't just dreaming it up. But, too little, too late.
This is kind of a debbie downer story. But, it was just too outrageous not to share on here. I mean, it could quite easily be a plot for a teen chick lit book or a teen movie. Except for the part when after the huge betrayal, I did not fall into the arms of a guy who would treat me right. Instead I just learned some valuable lessons about people I thought I knew and myself and went on being alone.
Which is fine by me. I can be mad all I want at those two people, but it will never do me any good. I saw the warning signs, I could have tried to distance myself from him, but I did not. I forgave them and I am still really good friends with the guy.
This little history just taught me that when it comes to love and the pursuit of it, you will definitely be shit on. But, after many showers, the stink and stain will fade away. You can just go on looking for a guy who will not use you as their own personal toilet.
This is the story of my own little Shakespearean play. I would call it a tragedy, but I did not end up murdering anyone or killing myself. Nor will I call it a comedy because it stung so badly. So, let's just classify it as a history for now.
Second semester of my sophomore year I had a class with a super cute guy. After the first few weeks of class, I found out he lived in the same dorm as I did and we shared mutual friends. We established a quick camaraderie based on these facts. He moved to sit with me in the back of the class and we walked back to our dorm after class. With all this time spent together, we talked a great deal. I found out we had very similar taste in music, he had a great sense of humor and that he was a genuine nice guy, which are hard to come by. Based on these facts, I quickly cultivated a crush on him.
I found myself making sure I looked cute on the days I had class with him. I always looked forward talking to him and walking back from class with him. I talked to my roommates about him, sharing that I did have a pretty big crush on him.
As the weeks progressed, I started to think that maybe, just maybe, this guy kind of liked me, too. He knew I liked Kirby and during class he drew me a picture of Kirby. He would also make me little origami stars. I would take those stars back and put them on my desk. They were pretty sweet. He would also flirt with me, which is always a good sign.
Since I had already informed my roommates of him, I began asking for their input. These were girls I shared a confined space with. We were pretty close and I did consider them good friends and valued their opinions. They all agreed that he did sound at the least interested in me. They would tease me about him and ask me about any progress made with him. Things continued in this way for a long time. As time wore on, I let myself really start to believe this guy liked me. The signs were there. It just seemed like a fact.
Then I started to notice something...weird. One night, my roommate I shared a room with was talking to someone on AIM. We were talking and I asked her whom she was talking with. She informed me it was the guy I liked. I didn't really think too much of it though. They had met, and we all did have mutual friends. It did bug me, I am a girl and I was jealous, but I tried to not get too bent out of shape about it. Well, a couple of days later she informs me she is going to a concert with this guy and a group of our friends. It was a last minute invite from her, but I just declined. This one really took me by surprise. I got pretty pissed, but again, I calmed myself down thinking that it wasn't too out of the norm for a group of our friends to go to a concert together. A week later, we were all drinking and I came back to our room to see a small group of people, including him and her, in her bed. This did not settle right with me. So, before we went to bed that night I straight out asked her if she liked him. She protested, No, of course not! He was really cool and cute, but she knew I liked him and would never do that. I told her if she did, that it was fine, I just did not want her to lie to me. She said, No, this was not an issue.
I don't know why I still thought he might like me after this. I just held out hope. It became pretty obvious that he was pretty interested in her, but he still seemed interested in me, too. I was all sorts of confused. I decided to stay optimistic. Which was not the smart move. I should have cut my losses then.
One of my other roommates had a birthday and the girl I shared a room with decided to throw her a surprise party. That was one of the worst/best nights of my life. Best because it pretty much solidified my friendship with Miss Allison Richardson. Worst because: At the party my bedroom roommate and the guy were extra touchy feely, something I took notice of. We left before they did. When they came back to MY dorm room, they were partially clothed, wet, and embracing each other. They had got in the hot tub together. Upon seeing this, I got up, washed my face and brushed my teeth, then went to bed. She came in a bit later to grab some blankets. The next morning I found them on our living room floor together, peacefully sleeping. I wanted to throw water on them or something drastic, but instead I devised a plan to get out of the room for a couple of hours, let them wake up and leave, then come home to them not being there.
That plan did not work. Instead, they stayed in our mutual living space until about 3 or 4 the next afternoon. I heard them kissing a couple of times. I was hurt, humiliated, angry, and sad.
I was so upset that she could do that to me after we spent so much time talking about how much I liked him and if he liked me. She did not have the decency to go to his room to do whatever, but instead came back to our room where she knew I would be. Nor could she have got up early and had him leave, knowing that it was not a good situation. I thought she was a friend, someone I could trust, but that just proved me so wrong.
And him. He knew I liked him. It wasn't a secret. Yet, he had no qualms about hooking up with my roommate in my dorm room. My feelings were obviously no concern of his. That hurt the worst. Knowing that I mattered so little to him. I was such an insignificant being to him that he felt it was fine to lay in my living room all day long with her cuddling and what not. Which was a pretty big equivalent to a huge slap in the face and punch in the gut. He later informed me that he made the wrong choice in that situation and that he did really like me, I wasn't just dreaming it up. But, too little, too late.
This is kind of a debbie downer story. But, it was just too outrageous not to share on here. I mean, it could quite easily be a plot for a teen chick lit book or a teen movie. Except for the part when after the huge betrayal, I did not fall into the arms of a guy who would treat me right. Instead I just learned some valuable lessons about people I thought I knew and myself and went on being alone.
Which is fine by me. I can be mad all I want at those two people, but it will never do me any good. I saw the warning signs, I could have tried to distance myself from him, but I did not. I forgave them and I am still really good friends with the guy.
This little history just taught me that when it comes to love and the pursuit of it, you will definitely be shit on. But, after many showers, the stink and stain will fade away. You can just go on looking for a guy who will not use you as their own personal toilet.
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