So you finally met a guy that seems normal and hasn’t done the following:
- Borrow money from you.
- Sniff your hair creepily while walking behind you.
- Tell you that you should invest in breast implants.
- Slap your ass during the first date.
- Try to pick up your friends.
This amazing new guy:
- Is cute.
- Incredibly funny.
- Has a job.
- Has great personal hygiene.
- Has similar interests.
And it feels right. You get along and talk about anything and everything and as gay as this sounds, every time you see him, you get giant, tap-dancing butterflies in your stomach. When you receive a text from him it’s like you’re the first human being to ever get a friggin’ text message. You’re amazed and excited and almost arrogant about getting a text. It’s kind of like, “pffft…damn straight you’re texting me…I’m awesome.”
So yeah, all of the aforementioned, lame, flighty, nitwitted emotions has been happening to me lately. I have been like a big ball of giddy and gross, wrapped in cotton candy and dipped in an enourmous vat of rainbows and unicorns. I hate myself for it. Seriously…believe me when I say that I truly want to punch myself in the neck whenever I start talking about the same person over and over again. Because why? Why mention said person in the most unnecessary moments.
“Hey Margie, do you think I’ll need an umbrella later?”
“OMG *so-and-so* owns an umbrella!”
I am now that dickhead that does that.
And why am I doing it? Because of the stupid haze people who are smitten are constantly surrounded by. It’s that haze that disables your brain from thinking logically and seeing things for what they really are. I was swimming in it.
Fuck you haze. You suck.
So I was in that haze. Where all I could see was what I wanted to see, and not what I was supposed to see. And what I was supposed to see was the truth. That what I thought was a great beginning to something nice, was completely one sided, and sadly not going anywhere.
And look, that’s fine and totally understandable. And in no way is there anyone to blame for that fact. You can’t control how you feel or don’t feel. It’s a feeling. It’s uncontrollable, ever-changing and most times irrational. It comes out of nowhere and sometimes it just floors you and all of a sudden “we woke up in the kitchen sayin’ how the hell did this shit happen, oh baby“…if you know what I mean…
So what happens now?
What happens when that realisation kicks in? Welcome to my personal hell called
The 10 phases of realising that “this” isn’t going anywhere.
Phase 1: Denial
“But when we’re together it’s so different. I know he likes me. I can feel it. I mean, via text he’s sort of distant. But it’s hard to convey an emotion via text! Seriously, he’s just so great when we hang out. I know this has the potential to become something more serious…although he’s never indicated that once…but it’s only been 3 months…which is sort of a long time…is it?”
Phase 2: Sadness
“I’m so confused. I thought it was going ok but now it’s sort of a mess. And I don’t know what to do. This sucks. What did I do wrong? Oh look, The Notebook is on TV…I should watch this. It will be good for me…also I shouldn’t shower or leave my room during the entire weekend…that will alleviate this sadness…aaaaaaaaaaaaaand I’m crying”
Phase 3: Bargaining
Well I mean, I could still see him. I can be in control of the situation and just enjoy his company. I totally got this! I’m just going to be cool, calm, slightly aloof and totally elusive so he thinks I’m not that interested. I can control this situation and make it my bitch…shit! He just texted! *loses all sense of new found confidence and turns into an dipshit*
Phase 4: Eating
“Hi…yes…I’d like to place an order for 4 large pizzas and some chips…and some chicken wings…and garlic bread…do you have ice cream…oh you don’t…what about magnums…yeah I know that’s ice cream…look I’m having a really bad day, ok!”
Phase 5: Angry exercise
“Fuuuuuuuuck! I ate so much! I need to go jogging! I am so fat! No! Get your jiggly ass on the treadmill and prove to him that you are super sexy and that it’s his loss! Ok, start of with a power walk and then do 2000 squats, then cut off an arm! That should get rid of a few kilos! Deal!”
Phase 6: Eating again
“Hi…can I please get a large, double quarter pounder meal…and 12 cheeseburgers…yes, coke is ok for the drink…do you have magnums?”
Phase 7: Actual anger
“Hey, fuck this. This is bullshit. I don’t need this shit in my life. No one needs this shit. He was an asshole who never made the effort. He can suck it. I’m going to go and listen to some Kelis and Alanis Morissette and sing into my hairbrush while I punch the air and point to my pretend audience.”
Phase 8: Acceptance
“Ahhhhh, shit…this whole thing was a joke and I was a moron. Urgh. I acted like a sad psycho and he probably didn’t even know I was feeling like this the whole time. Ok, no more being sad and angry. Suck it up and don’t be baby. Give him back all his shit and then shut it down. Just know that he was a good guy who just wasn’t ready. Not his fault…still, he’s making a big mistake…but that’s not your call to decide!”
Phase 9: Eating more crap
“hmmmm…I will eat this entire box of chocolates. It will be my celebratory box of chocolates. This will be good for me! I think…shit, am I back to denial again? I should get some magnums…”
Phase 10: Moving on
*Cute guy walks by and thinks to herself*, “How you dooooooin…”
Honestly, I’m probably at phase 8-ish? Sometimes I’m at 9. Heck, sometimes I go back to 1. It’s a process. *Sigh*
I recently spoke to a friend about dating and what to do when it doesn’t work out. I told her my tactic was not to get too into it and not get too excited. To which she replied, “Why not? What’s the point if you can’t even feel excited or giddy? I mean, if it doesn’t work out then you’re sad for a bit, but you can’t replace that feeling of excitement. That’s the fun part! It’s why we do it! Why else would we do it?”
It’s so true. That’s the point isn’t it? Dating is fucked…but that feeling of excitement and potential is enough that people are willing to take the risk that it could end badly. Well, end in general really…
It’s annoyingly sweet.
Actually, I forgot to add a phase. Phase 11. I think it’s where I’m heading…
Phase 11: Holding on to the butterflies
“I know I deserve better than this. I don’t want to be someones spare time. Nor do I want to be someones only option because they didn’t get a better offer on Friday night. I’m not going to let anyone make imaginary plans in the hopes that I would be available just incase they get bored. Nope. I want a person to want to make plans and stick to them because they want to actually see me. I want someone to make me feel like I have giant, tap-dancing butterflies in my stomach…and know that I make them feel the same.”