Feelings & Things of That Nature

I’m not great, but I’m still trying. Not much has changed since the last time I vomited feelings onto tumblr. I guess I shouldn’t complain because they haven’t gotten worse. I just have extra stress bubbles to inhale and absorb. That was weird. As I wrote that I felt how weird it was but kept going. It’s fine, shitty ass metaphors get idolized on tumblr, I’m cool. 

I want a girlfriend. I also want a cat. I’ve had several opportunities to make both of those things happen but I skirted them with the same dismissive attitude: It’s not practical. I’ve wanted a girlfriend since the last time I had a girlfriend (Six years, 8 months and 20 days but who’s keeping count?) and it’s something I think about more than I think about, you know, more important things. I’ve been on a lot of dates. So many dates. Some great, some horrible, some in between. But the outcome never changed: I’m still single, and I okay with it (but I hate it).

Weird, right? I read an article about the nature of depression, and how it becomes this comforting blanket of everything you understand. Being sad, lonely, and cynical is commonplace for a lot of people. Being happy is weird, foreign, and scary. It shouldn’t be, no fucking way. We WANT to feel great, fantastic, and care free. But when you’ve gone so long thinking one way, it’s incredibly difficult to just swap over to the opposing viewpoint. 

I’m still trying, really. I don’t want to be a film snob. A music snob. A fucking dick who acts like his opinion is the penultimate perception on all-things-everything. I want to be accepting. I want to be compassionate. But that’s not what I’m used to. Just like I’m not used to being actively loved and cared for, nor feeling that way about someone else.

I love my friends and family, I do. But that’s not something I’m able to express on a regular basis. I don’t go over to their houses, hug them, and assure that I love them for everything they do and are. It’s just not a part of my life. Never has been. But when I was in a relationship? As fucked up, broken, and intangible as it was the affection and semi-constant assurance that there was someone close by appreciating you was there and I felt that. I don’t feel that, I haven’t felt that for a very long time. 

So back to the original point (hahahah tangents!), I can’t make the distinction from “Hi, let’s go out a few times and then see what happens!” to “We both like each other, therefore if one of us doesn’t commit I will be crushed.” Maybe (DEFINITELY) if I didn’t rely on dating sites to make this initial connection, this wouldn’t be a problem. But even when that’s not an issue these hang-ups persist. I’m a hopeless romantic, I always have been. I want that stupid, bullshit, Hollywood meet-up where by chance of coincidence I meet the woman of my dreams, there are some comedic happenings with a witty sidekick, some interesting conflict, and then we finally make up and get married and fuck for hours and hours and motherfucking hours. Roll credits. Then more fucking. 

I see all of these people in long distance relationships that just have such low probability of becoming more than that and all I think is, “Why?” And as I think that I feel the depression. The cynicism, but directed at myself. “Why question it, Nick? Who are you to scoff at this? You’ve never put in the effort, so it’s not your place. You’re not trying.”

And then I stared at this last paragraph for an hour, without any real understanding of the whole idea. I need to try. We all should try more. I get these messages all of the time, “Diction, I really like this girl and I don’t know how to tell her but-” STOP. Just fucking tell her. I feel like an asshole giving this advice when I sit there, watching girls I’ve been infatuated with for months find their one true-probably-love and I never said a fucking thing even I’m sure it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. Tell her. “Hi, I like you. Would you like to go out some time?”

It’s a small handful of fucking syllables but it holds the weight of the universe in our minds. “What if he/she says no?” That’s it. They say no. You move on. But for some reason we think there are larger consequences for this action. She tells the whole school, they laugh. She tells her current boyfriend/crush, he gets mad. Everyone AROUND me sees it happen and feels a temporary pang of empathy/embarrassment. NONE OF THESE THINGS ACTUALLY MATTER. What matters is taking it in stride. Yes or no, take it in stride. JUST. FUCKING. TELL. THEM. It makes so much sense when I type it out, but I’ll bet you a thousand bucks the next time I’m in this exact situation I will chicken out for the very same, stupid reasons I listed above. I’m 27 years old, and I’m also 15 years old. This probably won’t change. But guess what? I can always keep trying.