I’m a college graduate and I’m scared as hell

Rarely am I at a loss for either words or feelings. Today, May 14, 2017, is one of the most important days of my life, and is also one of those rare days in which I don’t completely know how to express myself. (more…)

Hope hope hope hope

Yesterday was the 11-month anniversary of a terrible day. When that actual anniversary comes around, I know I’m going to write a ton about it. It’s going to hurt, it’s going to suck, but I’ll need to reflect. That doesn’t stop me from feeling depressed now too, though.

I don’t know how much of this is specifically related to her. I think of her now and I get sad because I’m a pathetic excuse for an individual, but it’s more of a general sadness/misery. I don’t know what causes it, I just know I’m in a funk that doesn’t seem to end.

It could be due to stress, because God knows I’m under a lot of it.It could be due to insulin fatigue, because I should probably stop messing around with my health (I’m OK right now though, truthfully). It could be due to my loneliness, because even though I’ve had some, eh hem, companionship off again and on again, it’s not the same and none of it feels right (which makes me sound like a piece of shit, when in reality it’s nothing anyone else is doing wrong, I’m just chasing a meaningful, long-term relationship and none of these moments have made me feel like that’s on the horizon).

Whatever it is, I just want it to end.

I realized today (or at least was able to verbalize today) that a huge reason why she meant so much to me is because she could handle, at least to a point, all the issues I have. She did more than I deserved. I miss that a lot, and I’m nervous around other people now because I worry about divulging this kind of thing.

Rationally, when it comes to my romantic life, I’m relatively confident that it will eventually get better and more stable. I’ll find a girl I’m attracted to who actually likes me back, who wants to be in a committed relationship. I think I’ll find that, and, as stupid as this may sound to some, I hope it happens soon.

Obviously, I do, in fact, know where a lot of my aforementioned problems are rooted.

Hopefully it all works out soon. Spring semester is almost over, summer will be more relaxed, I will possibly have Rusty come live with me by that point and things should be a bit easier by that time. Granted, I’ll still be lonely, possibly even more so, so I’ll just fruitlessly wish that I meet the love of my life this summer and everything happens the way I hope it will.

Writing does help me be less sad, about life in general and about her specifically, at least a little bit. I just want to stop focusing on her whenever shit goes awry in my head. One day I will.

At least, I hope I will.

Let’s Get Out of this Town

When I feel like trash and/or like something really terrible is actively going on in my life, I don’t sleep. I rarely sleep as it is, but I just refuse to sleep. It’s hella late, I just went out on New Years Eve and I have to get up and go out to my aunt’s house early this afternoon. But I feel awful, so I’m staying up. I’m staying up listening to Kacey Musgraves, who I love but who can also serve as the soundtrack to my misery, and contemplating pathetic “what ifs” about my ex and I.

It’s never, ever happening and I need to get that through my thick, stupid skull.

But after a night out for the holiday, when I saw her giving the look she used to give me to her new boyfriend, it strengthened my belief that I need to get out. I already go to school out of state, which is good and I usually think about her less there. But I can’t be home without thinking of her anymore and I can’t live through that. I know to some people that sounds insane, considering we were high school sweethearts who spent most of our relationship far apart from each other. I can’t emphasize enough, however, how much she meant to me and how much I loved her. I would have given anything for her. Shit, I’d give anything to be with her now.

But that’s exactly why I can’t continue to call my lifelong home “home” much longer. I return to LGP, to the suburbs and to pretty much all I’ve ever known, and I’m reminded of her, of us and what I don’t have anymore: that smart, hilarious and beautiful girl I fell in love with four years ago.

I don’t know where I want to move to, as long as it’s not my childhood home. Maybe moving into Chicago proper would work. I’d still be pretty much where I’ve always lived and wanted to live, plus I could live with one of my best friends, but that’s still damn close to the hurt. Maybe I’ll relocate to Lawrence permanently. I love my friends so dearly and it makes me sad to think of how long it took me in my college career to be truly happy with everyone I surround myself with. I have plenty of friends in LFK, a good number of whom have more time left in school; I wouldn’t mind working nearby and still getting to see them all the time. Maybe I need to go somewhere else entirely and just start my whole life over. I’d be thrilled to start anew in Colorado. Washington is a great city, plus one of my best friends is moving there (albeit to be closer to her future husband), I wouldn’t mind moving out to the general DC area. I’ve always had a strange hankering to move to Texas (I wanted to go to school in Texas badly for quite some time in high school), maybe I could move to a smaller city, embrace the country music culture and assimilate down there.

Wherever the eventual destination is, I just need to get there. In radio broadcasting, specifically sports radio, there aren’t many jobs so you have to go wherever there’s an opening. At this point, I’d be thrilled to find a job somewhere new (or old, if that “old” place is Lawrence/northeast Kansas). I’m sure this sounds irrational, and there are good things about my lifelong home, but I can’t get over her and I want to so badly. I want to be done with our now-dead relationship. I wanted desperately for so long (still do, to a point) to be attached to her; now I desperately want to free myself from the albatross that is sad memories of what we once had.

I’d never outline all of this to my mom, she’d probably break down in tears. I think it would be hard for her to accept that it’s truly nothing she did wrong and she’s always been an amazing mother, but outside reasons why I want to get the hell out. My dad would almost certainly be more accepting of it, maybe even encouraging. I’d miss my closest friends so badly if I left, which is a drawback. I already miss them a ton while we’re all away at school, permanently leaving would be painful. They’re like my brothers, but we wouldn’t ever stop being friends, right? The more I think about it, even when considering possible negatives, I become more inclined to follow through with moving away and starting over.

It’s a new year and I need to change along with the calendar. I graduate this year, which is insane for me to think about. I’ve got a real career to think about, I’ve got a lot to consider when it comes to my future. All that said, it’s not beneficial for me to live in the past like I have for months now. She’s gone and she’s never coming back to me, as badly as I sometimes wish she would (that’s exceptionally selfish, I know, but I miss her terribly). Thus, it’s time to move on. I can and will still miss her and the relationship we had, but I’ll never feel better if I keep harping on it. I want to move away, because it may be the best way for me to cut off my past and start again without that weight.

Anniversary

Today would have been my anniversary. I thought I’d be more upset, actually. I spent most of the day up to this point not even realizing the relevance of the day. Of course, Facebook memories swooped in to deliver the pain.

I imagine a blissful world in which my perpetual sadness is mitigated for a day because I forgot about what was once the most important day of the year for me (or at least the most notable). Then I opened a notification on my phone, only to be exposed to photo collages from 2013 and 2014, plus a picture from our dinner date downtown in 2015. We got her favorite dessert to cap off the night. For dinner, we went to an Italian restaurant on Congress, not far off the terminus of 294. She really liked it. I know I told her we’d go back one day.

I still remember the day I asked her to be my girlfriend. It was our third date, she came over to watch the Packers game. Packers lost to the Vikings, which sucked, but honestly I wasn’t even particularly upset because I was so happy she was there with me. My dad offered us tuna sandwiches, which she turned down because she’s a vegetarian (I double-checked that she was full-on vegetarian, not just pescatarian or something). We were snuggled up on the couch, my right arm around her. I asked her if she’d like to go out with me, intending to ask if she’d like to make this a permanent thing and if she’d like to be my girlfriend. She asked if that was different from what we were already doing. We were both embarrassed after I clarified, I felt like an idiot. But she said yes and I to this day I can’t describe how happy I was to hear that.

When she left after the game, we stood outside my front door and I kissed her goodbye. It was cold as Hell, but I couldn’t have cared less at that moment.

Our first day out as an official couple was the next day, when we went to my best friend’s New Years Eve party at his house. There are some pretty funny pictures of that night. I wore my Orlando Magic Shaq jersey and my California Angels hat, her shirt had a leopard print. We flirted all night and for as much fun as I had with my friends, I just wanted to be with her. We kissed at midnight.

Our first anniversary capped off a roller coaster 2013. We spent several months together in school and then were together all the time over the summer, but it was also a summer filled with a lot of sadness. I knew I was going to miss her a ton. She knew she was going to miss me a ton. She outwardly displayed her emotions much more than I did. We fought a lot. We sat on the bridge over Salt Creek crying and holding each other for hours after we got dinner. She was at my house until nearly 4 a.m., far later than ever before. She was leaving the next day. Before she left, we gave each other going-away presents. She gave me a jar filled with pictures, memories, notes and more. I made her a scrapbook (she loves scrapbooking) and signed the front inside cover with “To my favorite Redbird, from your favorite Jayhawk.”

She cried a lot then. We both cried. I’m starting to cry now.

We didn’t see each other much after that point, since we went to colleges two states apart. We came home on my birthday weekend, I visited her during my fall break and we were home for a few days over Thanksgiving, before we finally got real time together for the holidays. When we both went home in September for my birthday, I vividly remember asking her what she thought about getting married one day. I sat on the little half wall/counter next to my fridge while she stood in front of me. I asked if she thought it was possible we would get married. She said yes. For better or for worse, I never let go of that notion. We went through a lot but we made so many memories in our first year.

2014 was really hard on both of us. I go to spend a few days with her at the end of winter break, which was amazing. A high school ex texted me late at night one of those days, we were laying in bed cuddling and laughing when I saw it. I hate that girl. She made her first trip to Lawrence that February, and we had a great time even though she was really sick. I spent a few more days with her during my spring break. We both worked over the summer but we saw each other as much as possible. Summer was fun but sad again. More fighting but nothing extreme, nothing we couldn’t handle. Emotions were just running high.

The fall was rough, to say the least. I went through a period when I was not right (you can argue that I’ve never been right), being distant and unlike more normal self. The biggest problem with this is that I hardly ever, if ever, recognized this. Was it SAD? Was it regular depression? I still don’t know. When she would push me to get help, I would push back. I’d feel like garbage, get better, ignore any suggestions to get help and would fall back into it, rinse and repeat. We argued a ton. There was a day when I voluntarily (although admittedly not in my right mind) didn’t communicate with her all day, something I had never done before. She said she was considering breaking up with me at one point, but we worked past it. I communicated with her. I tried to get better and tried to get back to treating her the way she always deserved.

What made this period even more stressful was the fact that we were both fervently trying to get our applications to study abroad completed.

The semester ended. We came home for the holidays and spent time together again. We celebrated our second anniversary. I was better, we were better.

Our third year together was wild, which is an adjective which really understates all we went through. Most notably, we went abroad together. We studied in England, we traveled Europe, we finally got to spend a semester together. We argued from time to time but again, it was nothing we couldn’t overcome. We’d talk, we’d figure things out, we’d be OK. I could write a few thousand words just about our international experience together, it was life-changing in so many ways. When we came home, though, things weren’t right. Our conversations didn’t go anywhere, she now seemed distant from me. I took her to Giordano’s for dinner one night and asked her about it. She told me she had reconsidered a lot after we returned home and just didn’t know what she wanted in life anymore (a prevailing theme for pretty much the rest our relationship). We decided to take a break that night. We also briefly went to grad party after this emotional ordeal, which was kind of weird.

We didn’t really stick to the whole “break” thing, as I texted her the next night and we talked about us and our future over the next few days. We figured some things out, at least it seemed so, and we got back together. We were together for the summer, again seeing each other as much as possible when we weren’t working. We went back to school and things were OK. She came to visit me, I visited her. There were several nights when we’d end our daily phone call in a weird mood, with one of us hanging up upset. She was sad and lonely. It’s really goddamn hard to be in a long-term, long-distance relationship and it was wearing on us. She would tell me about it (although it would sometimes take some prodding), whereas I was also lonely as all get out but would try to internalize it, since I figured we’d get through it all and would be together forever. Maybe I was an idiot. I was definitely in love.

The holidays were better. We celebrated Christmas again. For our third anniversary, we went downtown. We spent some time roaming the city, all the while trying to buy tickets to John Oliver’s sold out show (we had a chance but the tickets seemed fairly shady). We went to dinner at Tutto Italiano, a restaurant inside an old train car. After dinner, we walked down Michigan Avenue to an Aurelio’s, where we got her favorite dessert: their warm cookie topped with ice cream. Three years. There were ups and downs, but I loved her all the same and wanted everything to work out.

We lasted four and half months more. There were a couple more visits with one another. There was a lot more loneliness. There was more discourse. There was another break, one that we stuck to. We broke up. Never made it to today, what would have been our fourth anniversary.

Nearly three and a half years is a lot longer than most long-distance college relationships last, although that doesn’t really make me feel better about it being over. One of my best friends at KU has brought up that we had a couple issues we fought over and never really resolved (public or private schools for the kids we/I expected to have, ability to move around after graduating, others I’ve suppressed), but there’s a part of me that strongly believes we could have. I know we’re different people than we were our senior year of high school, and I know there are good reasons to be apart now. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be her boyfriend again.

I’m really embarrassed that I’m still not over this. I’ve been with other girls, I’ve had many experiences and been through a lot in the last seven and a half months, but I can’t shake my desire to be with her. I hope that I will one day, but that hope is constantly battling with the nagging wish I have to reconcile one day. I need to stop complaining, I need to stop harping on the past, I need to get beyond her. Sadly, that’s not happening today, because I can’t erase December 30 from the calendar.

Get Out of My Head

At some point, I assume I’ll completely get over my ex (speaking of the girl I spent three and a half years with and wanted to spend the rest of my life with, not the girl I dated briefly this fall). I was hoping this would happen prior to this moment in time, but I’m still to be “over” the relationship.

I have so many reasons to be done with her and with our relationship, even while remembering how big a part of my life it was and she was. It’s been over seven months since the day she broke up with me. I’ve got a girl back at school who I’ve been spending time with, both as just friends and also in an intimate fashion, who appears to really like me. I was recently told that I’m apparently attractive to many people, which is flattering but still hard for me to handle and conceptualize. Nonetheless, I have plenty of reasons why I should be done with her, but I just can’t stop myself from ending up sad from time to time. Right now is one of those times.

I’ve made peace with the fact we’re over and not getting back together. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I definitely spent the last few months holding out a sliver of hope that there is even a chance we could get back together in the future, but that’s pretty goddamn unlikely. She has a new boyfriend and is very blatantly infatuated with him, and honestly I’m happy for her because she was unhappy for quite some time at the end our relationship so I’m glad she’s found that happiness she was missing. I’ve even made my peace with the fact I probably miss the relationship more than I miss her, because I can’t say I love who she’s been in recent months. Even so, I recently thought of her and now I can’t get her out of my head.

She made me the happiest I’ve ever been in my whole life, that’s not an easy thing to recover from. I know I wasn’t a great boyfriend but I truly wanted us to stay together forever. Right before we broke up, I felt as though I was opening myself to changing in ways that would better suit what she wants out of the future, immediate and long term. Instead, I ended up feeling as though what I was saying wasn’t good enough (really just a microcosm of my entire existence) and I’ve written plenty to document the rest of the story. I still miss that relationship so much. I miss being her boyfriend.

The moment that brought on all these thoughts about her was talking to one of my friends about what our New Years Eve plans are. She suggested to our group that we go to some expensive bar that’s got an open bar and free food and whatnot. My friend doesn’t particularly want to go (he’s got a girlfriend he needs to think about, understandably) and I can’t say I’m in love with the idea of spending $75 for cover at a bar where I won’t be drinking and will inevitably be miserable watching her drunk ass canoodling with her new boyfriend. I sound extremely salty but considering how much I miss her/what we had, how unpleasant she sometimes is when she’s drunk and my general upset at my own existence, I feel like it’s reasonable.

After reopening that discussion, she’s been stuck on my mind for a couple days now and, frankly, it sucks. I hate thinking about her, it just makes me sad. When I came home at Thanksgiving, I looked in a box to see what was in it, only to realize it was filled with photos of us and other relationship-related paraphernalia. While looking for a bag to put my dad’s Christmas present in earlier tonight, I found one with some candy in it, and I couldn’t remember where it came from. I saw a deck of cards in there, which excited me, until I read what was written on one side of the box: “52 Reasons Why I LOVE You”

I joke a lot about wishing for death, but honestly I did slightly wish for it right then.

That’s excessively and hyperbolically dramatic but I hate being confronted with memories of her, especially when it comes unexpectedly. Reminders of her are all around me and I hate it so much. Not only is that box of photos in my room at home, so are two canvases she made for me, both of which I love(d) dearly and which mean(t) so much to me. A jar she filled with memories for me still sits on my dresser. My favorite pair of shoes is a gift she gave me last Christmas. My favorite sweaters are ones which her family gave me over the course of the last three Christmases. I have a mass quantity of shirts given to me by her/that I bought with her, very few of which I can stomach putting on today.

This is the first time in four years that I won’t be going to her house on Christmas night to celebrate with her.

I’m trying to hold back tears as I write this. I feel so weak and so vulnerable right now but I can’t help it. The last time we didn’t spend Christmas together was our senior year of high school, when I was five days away from asking her to be my girlfriend. That girl meant everything to me, more than everything. But she’s gone and I’m left to deal with heartbreak that I naively never expected to deal with.

Last night, my aforementioned friend and I took an impromptu road trip late at night to Valpo because he forgot his dad’s present back there. On the way we talked a lot about my ex and how much I’ve been missing her and thinking of her. It was during this discussion that I came to a sort of realization: that I need to get out.

My hometown is great in many ways (reserving my jokes about living in the suburbs temporarily), but it’s currently serving as little more than a reminder of what I used to have. I love seeing my best friends and it’s absolutely worth it to come home over break and see them, but I’m constantly reminded of my ex while I’m in town. It helps that I go to school out of state, but even then the majority of my college career was spend dating her so she’s still very much a part of Lawrence experience, even if she was only there physically a handful of times.

Maybe it will take a move into downtown Chicago. Maybe it will take a permanent establishment of Lawrence as my home. Maybe it will take a move to a completely different state/city. Whatever it takes, I think I’ve come to realize that spending time in my hometown is going to do nothing but make me sad about the past, no matter how many good things still exist there (I write as my dog lays next to me at home, stealing my pillow while I type).

It’s completely on me for not hiding away my memories of her sooner, because that’s fully within my control. But moving those into storage/out of my personal conscious and intensifying consideration into moving somewhere new (not that I ever wrote that off, because I’m stuck moving wherever there’s someone who will hire me) will be important steps for me. I miss her so much, so much so that I feel as though I’m rather pathetic, but I hate being reminded of what we had and I need to break away from that.

Harkening back to my last post, my old friend who I saw at a bar a few weeks back and later received a “Netflix and Chill” text from is the one I’ve currently got a romantic link to at school (God help me if my ex ever catches wind of that, I don’t want to experience that reaction due to her dislike of the girl and some of her lifestyle choices). Maybe I should focus on that. Maybe I should just play the field and see what happens. I’ve only got a semester left and then I’m done with college (hopefully) forever, I may as well try to enjoy it as much as I can.

I’m going back to school earlier than previous years to close out this break. After saying goodbye to one of my lifelong best friends before he heads off to Rome for a few months, I’m going back to spend one last night with one of my best friends at school before he goes off to DC for a semester (talk about being sad on my end). I’m hopeful that getting away from the canvases, from the old t-shirts, from her will be good for me overall.

Each of the last three years, I’ve capped off my winter break by going back to Bloomington-Normal with her for a few days. This year she’s student teaching during the spring semester, so we wouldn’t be making that trip anyway, but we would have spent the time together nonetheless. Without that coming in my near future this year, I may as well go and enjoy some time alone, continuing the process of building a life post-relationship.

Never-Ending Confusion

The last time I wrote, I was basking in happiness produced my then-new relationship status. That relationship has since died. Now as I write, deep into my senior year and with a newfound romantic confusion, not at all related to my now ex, I’m entering a new phase of nerves, excitement and anxiety.

Not long after getting together with my now ex-girlfriend, things started to go south. We hung out a couple times after making our relationship official, but that seemed to suddenly stop. Texts would go unanswered for hours to days at a time, making me feel ignored. Granted, I’ve felt that plenty of times before (i.e. the entirety of my junior year of high school), but I felt terrible nonetheless. She never had time to talk in person about anything, whether it was supposed to be a date or to discuss our rapidly failing relationship. She only responded when I was obviously irritated, then didn’t even have the decency to respond when we were both clearly insinuating that a breakup was near. I don’t necessarily hold anything against her, but I have to admit she made me feel like garbage and she’s just not emotionally mature enough to handle a serious relationship right now. I doubted her at the time, but I sort of understand now why she once told me she was “bad at dating.”

I’ve been surviving ever since the breakup. Honestly, I feel a lot better after it ended, because spending so long in a dead end, frankly pointless relationship really takes a toll on you. Work has been stressful, with the semester winding down and one of my bosses leaving recently. In addition to that, classes have not exactly been a breeze in recent weeks. In spite of all that, I’m doing alright (at least I tell other people that I am). With a return to single status, however, I’m facing a form of confusion that I’m not used to at all.

I don’t really like being single. I like companionship, I like having someone I can care for and/or take care of. I’m just happier that way. I also am not exactly use to flirting with other girls who are showing interest in me (I know I can and have, I’m just sort of oblivious, and by sort of, I mean completely). An example of this is last weekend when I was at a bar in Madison.

My two best friends and I were up there for the Wisconsin/Minnesota game and we went out to a bar the night before (along with my UW-student friend’s friend). While we were just having a good time, a group of girls came up next to us and were getting progressively closer while dancing. One of them ended up pretty much on top of me where I was standing. I could tell she was there and I subsequently opened up the little circle my friends and I had made, in an attempt to make room for all of them to join us. Apparently, I should have just turned around and made some sort of move with this girl, because after a moment they ended up walking away. One of my friends asked what I was doing and said I came off as uninterested. Needless to say, I felt pretty dumb.

I spent three and a half years in a long-distance relationship and frankly I have no idea if any girls ever showed interest in me during that time. My freshman year I barely had any female friends (one of whom I will bring up again later) and over my sophomore and junior years I never perceived interest from anyone. There may be several reasons for that (not the least of which being people were just uninterested or apathetic), but a big one is that I don’t think that other people find me attractive. I think I look alright but I have some sort of mental block that prevents me from thinking that a girl is physically interested in me. It’s largely (or totally) due to my low or nonexistent self esteem. These facts only complicate my current situation.

I’ve been talking to one girl, a friend of a friend, since the first Kansas basketball game of the season, when she came out with my friends and I to watch the game at Buffalo Wild Wings. I thought she was very cute and very funny and we’ve been talking every day since. I’ve tried (poorly, probably) to make plans a couple times, but this past Thursday we went out together to a bar with a group of friends. It was really fun and we all had a good time, but I can’t tell if I had messed up what I had going or not. I wasn’t sure if I was being weird or if I was fine. It’s such a stupid and neurotic thing to always have on my mind, but here we are. I still really like her, but my inability to pull the trigger on making any sort of move at all is creating a vicious cycle of self doubt. I want to stop being stupid but it’s just in my nature. I’ve been joking for several days now about trying to stave off screwing this up as long as I can, but now I’m fearing a self-fulfilling prophecy.

While on the dance floor at the bar with my friend and her friend (it’s hard to keep track of everyone when you don’t use names), I was being my awkward dancing self. Suddenly, I made eye contact with a girl across the floor (it’s not a very big space, actually). She was extremely attractive, a redhead. The look she gave me was one I had never received before, but I knew what it meant. This beautiful girl was staring deep into my eyes, obviously indicating something, so naturally I looked away because I’m stupid. I looked back and she did almost simultaneously, still giving me a look that instantly caught my undivided attention. Already standing next to the girl I’ve been trying to flirt with for weeks, however, was not the right time to walk over to a different attractive girl and start dancing or flirting or whatever. Thankfully we left the dance floor mere moments later before I became even more lost in unawareness of how to handle the situation. I don’t think I completely botched that scenario, but I probably did in some way. Add it to the list of things that I can’t do right and have added to my romantic stress.

Then there’s my friend from freshman year. She and I are very different in many ways, but she’s still one of my best friends. I saw her at the bar, so I went to say hi, give her a hug, ask why we haven’t gotten dinner recently, ask why she was still talking to her ex (another one of my good friends), all that jazz. Honestly, I was really happy to see her. After a couple minutes I went back to our booth and didn’t think much of it.

The night went on and one of my friends was extremely drunk. Another friend and I walked him back to my place, where he crashed on the couch for the night. This second friend, who I’m very close with and explain most of my romantic tribulations to, was adamant about me making some sort of move on someone and demanding I have some sort of self confidence. While this was going on, I got a text from my friend from the bar. She sent a bunch of kissy-face emojis, to which I responded that I was happy to see her that night. To paraphrase a series of four successive texts she sent me, she said she was so drunk but she honestly loves me and we should get dinner soon, then sort of begged to Netflix and Chill afterward.

Bruh.

I have no idea if that was a repressed feeling that emerged in her drunken state or if she was just being ridiculous. Knowing her it could just as easily be either of them. The function of “love” is also in question here, so I really don’t know what’s up. I told her that we can talk about that second part later but we should definitely get dinner soon, and she said “Ok xxx” in response. What the hell, man. Again, she’s a close friend, and she’s also very attractive, but I’m really not sure where this is going in her head, let alone in mine.

I’m pretty damn dumb when it comes to dealing with girls. I get nervous about being awkward so that messes things up for me, I can’t tell if someone else is attracted to me, I’m just an idiot in all honesty. Where all of these situations are going is something I don’t know. What point I’m trying to get across is also unbeknownst to me. I guess these are all things (the former more so than the latter, anyway) that we’ll find out in due time.

At least, I’m hopeful we will.

Happiness

When I last wrote, almost three full months ago, I was just closing the brief yet memorable chapter of my life that was my first Tinder experience. Since then, I’ve been through a lot, both positive and negative. I’ve met many new people, had many new experiences and made a lot of jokes about hating myself. Even with the trials and tribulations I’ve withstood in recent months, I found someone that makes me happy, and that’s the best thing I could ever hope for. (more…)