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I don’t care about your relationship problems. I don’t want to meet “this guy you know who is perfect for me.”
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I live in a constant state of early 90s.
When college rock was good.
And black people were still on TV.

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     I don’t care about your relationship problems. I don’t want to meet “this guy you know who is perfect for me.”

Don’t read this.

I’m just going to incoherently bitch and moan and throw myself a pity party on the Internet for a minute.

Aside from a handful of folks chillin on Best Friend Status, everyone I know can just get out of my face with all of this relationship bullshit.  I am single.  I will be single indefinitely, partly by choice (because I’m not actively looking for a relationship) and partly by necessity (because when I *am* looking, no one is really checking for me and I just feel shitty all the time).  Until I have reached a point where my mental health is such that endless rejection no longer phases me—or I become rich and guys will love me for my money—I’m not really trying to look for boyfriends and shit.  That is not for me.  

Some people have active love lives.  Some people have active social lives.  Some people are career-minded.  Some people have lots of hobbies.  Whatever people want to do, just let them do that.  

Don’t look at me cross-eyed because I don’t feel like being on the dating scene.  IT IS FUCKING DEPRESSING OKAY?  You don’t know me.  You don’t know how hard I try and how I always come up empty.  Don’t give me platitudes about other fish in the sea and how everybody faces rejection.  And don’t make me feel like a defective human being because I’ve reached a point where I’m just fed up with it.

And don’t tell me how smart I am, great I am, funny I am, cute I am, wonderful I am, etc. I am.  I already know all that.  And I know you feel that way because we’re friends.  I don’t need Me and You to see what a catch I am.  I need Him and Other Him to see that.  Which they don’t.  So leave me alone.

God, this one girl—and I can talk about her because she won’t even realize it’s about her—is FOREVER on a date.  Our whole friendship is based on text messages and phone calls at this point because she never has a free night to hang.  She’s always on a date.  Whenever we *do* go out, she gets hit on all night, free drinks left and right, and dates aplenty.  But then she can’t go out with him again because he’s a vegetarian.  Or she can’t go out with him again because he lives in Queens.  Or she can’t go out with him again because he has back hair.  Or she can’t go out with him again because his laugh is weird.  Or she can’t go out with him again because he snores.

Bitch.  Bye. 

I can’t even GET A DATE and you are throwing them all away over some trivial shit and then complaining to me about it.  Girl, I don’t even LIKE you that much.  We are friends because we are connected by a mutual friend that I do like.  Stop telling me about your “sad” love life.  I’m a starving orphan in Somalia, and here comes this fat bitch complaining to me that her cake has too much icing on it.  Can I just have a slice?  I’ll take the icing.  Shit, burn the cake for all I care; I’ll still eat it.  At least it’s food.

And no, I don’t wanna meet the cute gay guy at your office or this guy at the gym who you think would be perfect for me.  No, I don’t care that you think I might really like him.  That’s not the problem.  That’s never the problem.  I can like almost anybody.  That’s why all my relationships suck in the first place because I will literally date anyone who likes me (because they come so few and far between) even if we have no business trying to date each other.  So yes, I will like him.  I can almost guarantee it.  But odds are, dude is not going to like me back so we’re back at square one and back to the reason why I’m not dating right now in the first place: because I have inner-shit to work out and rejection makes me sad!

Rejection makes everybody sad.  But rejection makes me REALLY sad.  I am SO salty right now.  I’ve been salty all year.  Go ahead.  Lick me.  You will get high-blood-pressure immediately.  I’m tired of being sad all the time and feeling ugly all the time and dealing with bullshit inferiority complexes all the time.  That’s what trying to meet guys does to me.  Why voluntarily do that to myself?  Let me just dip on out of that situation.  Stop trying to MAKE me do something that I am clearly not stable enough to be doing.

Yes, the potential returns are great.  A fabulous relationship is indeed fabulous and you’re so happy and shitting rainbows and skipping on clouds and singing Kum Ba Yah all day.  That is wonderful.  But that is a GAMBLE.  You are not guaranteed that result.  It’s not “ok, 99 people will reject you, but the 100th will be an amazing relationship.”  And those 99 make me feel like doo-doo anyway so that gamble is not worth it.  I’d have a better chance of winning the lottery than finding a compatible guy who actually wanted to date me.  I’ll just play the lottery, thank you.  I’d much rather gamble with $1 than gamble with my self-esteem.

So y’all need to leave me alone.

The next person that tries to set me up on a date, I swear on everything, I will slap you to sleep.  

There.

I’m done.

I feel so much better.




4:14 pm  •  16 May 2012  •   Let's talk about what you think.
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