And then came 12/12/12 when
all 3 of my roommates had their girlfriend’s over and at some point during the night made giggling rhythmic noises. As well as myself crashing a triple couples date unintentionally. I don’t think I have ever literally been the odd man out. And then, while there, i keep making it worse for myself. I retreat into my own mind and begin analyzing Begin watching and guessing and I see everyone carrying on and holding hands, and even try to include me in conversation, but I can see their timidness. I can see their reluctance to keep a conversation going with someone other than the one they came with. I see them smile and think to themselves “Ah! Now, here is a time to be polite!” and I appreciate it. I really do, because I know it is because you care about me. About my well-being. But I am too far gone into my own mind. Too far within my own sordid antithesis to love, to a moment to really connect with someone. I can’t get past the webs I see. The connections I am not privileged too. The conversations I cannot hear. And it is all in good fun. I know they joke and laugh and do not mean to exclude, but it is different. Everything is different. And I realized that the incredibly vast majority of people that I interact with on a daily basis have found a significant other at least for a time being. Honestly. Matt, Brad, Watson, Korey, Hannah, Kelsey, Taylor, Joslynn, Donovan, Saul, Katrina, Leah, have all found someone, or each other. Also, this applies to EVERYONE at work. Literally everyone. Brett, Justin, Paul Katie 1, Katie 2, Renee, Megan, Lauren, and now even the 2 new hires have someone to share a part of their lives with. Even back home, there are many who find solace within anothers arms.
I do not understand what I’m doing, or not doing. It is not as if I don’t talk to girls. I ask them out on dates, some say yes, some say no. I can deal with all this. Some change plans the day before, some say “Thant was fun! Thanks!” then … leave. Nothing happens. Nothing EVER happens. That is their right and will. I know that they are people. That they have their own wants and desires and lives and experiences.
I know you cannot buy love with favors and drinks and material things. Women are not vending machines to be plied with these things and then magically they realize they are attracted to you. I know thats not how it works. The friendzone is a bullshit excuse for lazy people with a too large sense of entitlement. If you like someone, talk to them. Hang out with them, see if anything is there. And I do these things. It may take me a while, but I can eventually take the risk and make a move. It’s just that I don’t know why nothing ever progresses. Something always happens. Something always comes up right at the moment where we get comfortable with each other.
Feelings change, semesters end, semesters start, excuses are made, people move, opportunities are left un-taken, phone calls are missed. Something always happens. Am I not passionate enough? Smart enough? Physically fit enough? I do have passion, I get excited about things. Its just that… I cant find anyone else that gets excited as I do anymore. I read, I write, I analyze, I debate, I speak. I can do all these things, but it seems that no one wants to do them with me. I ask, I prod, I question, I joke, I inquire, I foreshadow, why then can’t I find anyone to do this with me? My friends do. I know they do because otherwise, why else would they be my friends? Common interests and platonic love keep us together. I just want to have these discussions after a movie in bed. In line going to a show. I want to have these conversations holding hands and touching torsos. I want to be interrupted with caresses. I know I get attached too easily. Anyone who knows me well knows that. But I feel like I’ve come a long way. Like I am really ready for something significant to happen. Something longer than a night. Than a day. Than six months.
I find myself becoming burdened with life. With annoying hours at work. With increasing my debt from school by thousands of dollars each year. By taking classes that bore me and annoy me. By getting surpassed and left behind by my friends in many aspects. The ever present notion of a long and complicated life, filled with discovery and wonder does little to soothe me. It sounds like hard work. And I wonder why I put so much emphasis on this. On finding another. Why can’t I be truly happy on my own? I can find joy in reading in peace. In working with my hands. I can find enjoyment from the company of those I love and cherish. I know I have a good life. I think thats what makes it worse. If I have this, why do I feel confusion and anger and a heaviness in my chest? I know that others feel this way. Have felt this way. Will feel this way. But that doesn’t help me feel any lighter. If anything my unoriginality stokes the coals that burn through my mind. The fact that i’m not the first, not unique, makes me even more strongly rage at myself for being unable to deal with this. I know everyone has gone through something similar. I know that I will get through tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. And for a while I will be fine.
Then nothing will happen again. Then I will forget my phone one day. I will be sitting on a plane. The radio in my car will break. And I will have time to myself to think. Begin to wonder anew at life. I will start the checklists again. The pros and cons of the past few months. I will remember jokes and pictures and quotes, and I wont know what to do with them. I will just file them away to be accessed at a later date.
And who wants to hear this eventually? I think I am too good at hiding. I have found codes to use to make everything seem copacetic. Eventually I will say something to her, to one of them, and they will understand for a while. But they won’t want to hear it again and again and again. I have been told that I have an old soul. Maybe it is too old? Maybe I am not compatible with myself. So i do research. And i eat more fruits and vegetables. And i get more sun. And i find new music. I talk to people who know me. Who tell me that Someday! Someday, it comes right after Sunday. Someday, someone will love me. That I will make someone a good husband. That I could be that fun English teacher in high school. I just don’t see how what I am doing now, will get me there. I must be doing something wrong. And if i’m not doing something wrong, then I just have to be patient? Fuck that. I am so tired of being patient. But I cant help it. It’s in my nature to be a nice guy. But nobody ever wants to date a nice guy. They just want to talk to nice guys. To have someone to feel comfortable with. A brother, not a lover. And there it is. My ego. I think i’m nice, so i should get a girlfriend? I already know that thats not how it works. But I try challenging girls i like. I try making jokes with them and i try to build tension, I try to stand out, to be seen as confident, to project austerity, but nothing ever comes of it. And this post isn’t helping. Anyway, it’s 3:25am in finals week. I’m going to bed.
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President Obama is not impressed.[via]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdn095tT1K1qewacoo1_400.jpg)
