I’m not boy-crazy, though I do realize that a lot of my recent posts have dealt with persons of the opposite gender. Love and dating have been on my mind a lot lately, but I blame society and all of the stupid happy people around me. (Okay, I blame myself for a good portion of the happy people around me, I did make a conscious choice to spend my weekends coordinating weddings, but I’d rather blame society.)
I’ve spent most of my adolescent and adult life wondering why guys aren’t interested in me. And then, for some reason, all at once, guy after guy pops up and makes me question whether there really were no guys interested before or if I was too busy belittling myself to notice the guys who were.
Today I went to get my oil changed. When my car was ready, an employee called my name and I went to the desk to pay. I took one of my headphones out, but left the other one in while the guy told me my total and I handed over my debit card. While the transaction was running he asked me something, but I was looking away and didn’t really register that he had spoken for a couple of seconds. When I did, I took out my other headphone and he repeated himself, “What have you been up to?”
“Just working.” I shrugged my shoulders and put my book back in my purse.
“Do you remember me?” he asked. I finally looked at him, trying to recognize someone from high school, but though he looked vaguely familiar, no name came to me.
“Should I?” I couldn’t believe I asked that, but it was the first thing I could think of to say. He smiled and pointed at his name on his shirt. It took me another second or two and then it dawned on me. I had dated this guy! Not seriously, we went out a couple of times when I was a teenager, he used to be a regular at the skating rink where I worked in high school. (I know skating rinks are incredibly uncool, but most of the jobs I’ve had have been incredibly uncool.)
I let him know I knew who he was and asked what he’d been up to. He said he thought I looked familiar but wasn’t positive until he saw my name. It was a very strange encounter. I didn’t really know what to say to him, I didn’t really remember much about him, not even his last name. What I did remember was kissing him in a movie theater. I’ve only kissed a few guys- four to be exact. And he was one of them. Yet, I hadn’t thought about him in years. Probably not since I quit the skating rink (almost 10 years ago).
There are guys in my past that I cared very deeply about, even though they didn’t feel the same for me. I still think of them sometimes and wonder what they are doing and how they are. Not in a creepy stalker way, but I’m sure you know what I mean. People who are important to you have a way of imprinting themselves on your life, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve seen or talked to them.
I found it odd that this guy hadn’t imprinted. I would have thought that one of the few men I’d kissed would have, you know? I suppose if someone had asked me this morning how many guys I’d kissed I would have been able to tell them and I would have been able to name this guy, but I can’t be positive about that.
I don’t know why it affects me so much, but I feel guilty about it. And at the same time, I wonder if I’m that forgettable. Probably to some. But maybe there are men out there who I imprinted on somehow. I can’t be certain that’s the case, but maybe.
Sorry, back to my original topic. When it rains, it pours. I thought when I turned twenty-five approximately 10 months ago that this was going to be the year I met someone. I was sure of it. I wrote down a love story in the hopes that it would propel fate or destiny or whatever. Of course it didn’t. Then I stopped expecting it to happen. And of course as soon as I stopped expecting it to happen, Religious Guy asked me out (and dumped me- although it wasn’t really a dumping since we were only trying each other out, more like he decided I didn’t fit) and then Waiter Guy tells me I’m beautiful and then Dog Guy appears to flirt with me and then I run into Guy-I-Once-Kissed Guy. Now, I know none of these guys are the someone I’ve been hoping for for so long, but they are building up my confidence a little. I believe in myself a little more. Enough to smile at Dog Guy rather than looking away immediately. Maybe in a couple of weeks I’ll have enough courage to actually speak to him. Maybe twenty-five wasn’t my year. Maybe twenty-six won’t be either, but it’s looking a lot better today than it was yesterday.
This is supposed to be a blog about writing and about me trying to be a writer. But sometimes it’s so much more than that for me. I know I ramble about random and stupid and silly things sometimes, but sometimes this blog is all I have. After the encounter today, I really wanted to tell someone about it. But I didn’t have anyone I could tell it to. I’ve been closed off for a long time. I keep to myself because friends who I thought I was close to let me down, they didn’t care about me the way I thought they did. Now I have 2 friends who I consider to be close friends, but they aren’t physically close. And the truth is, it’s still hard for me to talk to them about certain things. I don’t know how to bring something like this up with them. I end up feeling guilty for talking about me instead of them and so I make light of whatever it is I wanted to tell them in the first place. I feel selfish if the “problem” I have isn’t big in comparison to a problem they may have.
This blog is the only place I can truly express myself and my fears and tell others about things happening in my life without feeling guilty because I’m talking about me. I used to keep a journal and if I went back to read my old thoughts, I’m sure they would sound an awful lot like this blog- often repetitive and back and forth emotionally. I love life, I hate myself, I love myself, I hate life- you get the picture. I often wonder if I’m optimistic, pessimistic, or just plain foolish and sometimes I wonder if I’m bi-polar. My mood swings probably aren’t that extreme, but what can I say, I over-think and over-analyze everything. All of which to say that while I still intend to use this blog to chronicle my writing journey, I think it’s important to use it to chronicle the bigger journey that I’m on, too.
A journey to be happy.