Saturday, March 27, 2010

Please just indulge me



I'm in a funk. When I'm in a funk, I want to point out all that is wrong with my life, what I don't have, what I do have that sucks, what other people have that frustrates me for its inexplicability...I just want to be ungrateful. It sounds childish because it is. Do I choose depression? No. I do feel like it kind of descends at times like a thin veil of smoke in a room where you can't figure out if it's smoky or if your eyes are blurry. But once I recognize it's smoke, sometimes I don't bother to ventilate the room, I just sit there and lament the smoke. This is one of those times. And I feel like it's going around. We blame whatever stage of the menstrual cycle we happen to be on (oh, I'm ovulating, oh, I'm PMS'ing, oh, I'm actually on my period, oh I'm post-PMS'ing), but I do wonder sometimes about the mystery of a cluster of women all kind of suspended in this grimy energy. I don't see them on a regular basis, I don't talk to them every day or even every week and then we come together and discover we've all been doing battle with the same demons. It's strange to me.

So the story of my life as it concerns dating is a near pathological ability to be strongly attracted to the kind of people least likely to be attracted to me. I don't know how I do it but I'm not exaggerating when I say I'm very good at it. So good I'd be willing to bet my paycheck on it. It's uncanny, curious, and really frustrating. I truly can not trust my instinct with men. I am blind to their interest when it's there and a total teenager when it isn't, culling clues from innocuous interactions and trying to interpret them like tea leaves. And don't even get me started on how I go out of my way to blend in and not be noticed so I don't even look interesting to the kind of interesting people I want to be around. You know how most people describe me? Nice. You know I'm not nice, readers. I'm agreeable but I'm not really nice. And you know what nice is? SOOO boring. So intimidating. So blah. Nice guys may eventually have a shot with the girls but guys...I don't think they want a nice girl. It's too much pressure. It's why Jake (The Bachelor) chose Vienna. She's a hot mess, he's a hot mess. I didn't even like the other girl. Too perfect, too correct, too nice-no one is that good. I'm sure he felt like he would never be the man she deserved and he wasn't really himself with her.

I had a guy like that. Felt that with me, he was the man he wanted to be instead of the man he was. Not sure who he thought I was but he saw me as that kind of perfect (I know, right?). It's an emotional perpetual motion machine; I'm attracted to guys who aren't attracted to me which reinforces that I'm not attractive to anyone (but homeless men, old black men, and black men of any age on age-inappropriate bicycles), which impacts my self-esteem, which discourages me from marketing or packaging myself like something of worth. I feel rejection in the air. I feel like I'm nowhere anyone (of the opposite sex) appreciates me. I'm tired of writing guys who don't write me back. I'm tired of boys in the their mid-20's hitting me up on dating sites. I'm not Mrs. Robinson, I won't be your cougar experience, paying for our dates and the only one of us with the trappings of adulthood. They're not even mature 20-somethings. They can't spell, they can't write, they have nothing to say but 'sup or hello, or hey there. My dating life has always been a fucking famine. I'm tired of trying. Hope is so exhausting. I've spent the better part of the last two weeks on my knees, just trying to scratch by in terrible pain from my back, shivering on the couch when my body all-out revolted from the pain and meds and the stress. I thought, this is 35, what will this look like at 50? 60? How long do I even want to live if I'm going to be alone?

God, truly and seriously, why am I alone and will it always be this way?

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