That guy on the floor? Yep, that would be me.
I fully realize that the logical thing to do is to dust myself off and get up, but getting up requires more effort than I'm willing to give. I think I'll just chill here for a while. Carry on.
I was gonna stick with basics and write yet another blog about yet another disapponting date that I got my hopes way too high for, but let's be real: we all already know this story, and I just don't feel like going there again. Nutshell: Three weeks ago I met a dude who I thought had real potential. I liked him. We went out. It sucked. The end. I don't even know what I did wrong. So I've come to a conclusion: Guys just don't want me. And you know what? I'm just gonna have to deal with it. I've decided I'm done looking, done wishing. I've tried everything, prayed to every deity I know of and even some I made up just to add to the list, and no matter what happens, I strike out 100% of the time. My record in men is worse than all of Chicago baseball.
I'll be real, it hurts- it's like David Beckham kicking a white hot double sided branding iron through my chest at point blank range. It's a bitch. But cyber-crying about it in a blog sure as fuck isn't gonna change anything, so I have to accept my fate.
I know when people say "Oh someone is out there for you", and other such sentiments that married people say, they essentially mean well and I appreciate it, but I'm trading in optimism for realism. When your own mother doesn't even believe it when she says it, why would anyone else? Since we're on that subject, let's explore it.
It's no secret that my mother has never been exactly a cheerleader for me. She's actually the one person that makes me feel worse about myself than anyone else does. I cringe when I get stuck telling her about yet another date that went sour, because the first comment she makes usually relates to my appearance. It goes like this: "So mom, the date with Joe Schmo didn't work out lke I hoped it would". Mom: "Well you probably weren't was he was hoping for physically. He probably wanted a petite girl."
The salt in the wound of this is the fact that she says it like she's doing me a fucking favor by telling me this!
Trying to tell her that men do find me attractive is futile, because in her eyes, my appearance covers up anything else that could possibly be good about me, and there's no way a man could ever want me because he'll never get past the way I look. How the fuck can anyone ever see redeeming qualities in me if my own mother can't even recognize them? Thanks mom.
Frankly I'm just over all of this. I'm tired of spewing out energy for something that just doesn't want to happen for me. Tired of pushing back against fate. I get it Universe, I don't have a someone, you win. I'm over getting knocked down. I officially forfeit. Ring the fucking bell already, cuz I'm done.