Snickersnack

Posted: August 18th, 2010 | Author: ERIC | Filed under: Love | Tags: FML, the game | No Comments »

Wow.

I’m having one of those rare moments where all the little nasty things I’ve done to totally unrelated people are, simultaneously, bestowing their requisite amount of guilt upon me.

A lot of this has to do with an unwillingness to communicate. Telling someone who by no means has done ANYTHING REMOTELY negative towards me to essentially fuck off is probably the cardinal sin of all of these, but there are others who deserve an apology just as much as she.

They won’t be getting one.

If there’s one thing I can maintain with a person more than anything else, it’s radio silence. My ability to just NOT FUCKING SAY A WORD is a bit contrary to the venting nature of this rant, but it isn’t really targeting anyone specifically. In some fashion it may reach some of them, this rambling, but given that I don’t expect or intend for it to really go anywhere and coupled with the sea of workout bullshit I post on a regular basis… kinda doubt it.

It is a bit unfortunate that I don’t just allow myself to be happy with someone.

I see something, it is good, and I am immediately mistrustful of it and begin deconstructing and despising both whatever relationship may have developed and then also the person him/herself. As though my insecurities are their fault. Which I rationalize into “truth” when I’m in the midst of obliterating our connection.

So many plans canceled.

I always wonder when these things fall away if those plans, when their date rolls around, if I spark some recollection in the other person’s mind. There are two girls I had fucking promised I’d propose to, and of course I have suspicion that that being entirely fucking creepy might have played a part in getting my ass dumped, but still? There are people now who I had made plans with whose dates are not yet come. What of them? Will they remember? And so what if they do? Are they going to hop a train and waste the time and try to see if maybe there’s still something there?

I would. But I’m entirely fucking creepy, also.

Or maybe it’s more I might. Those two, I knew they were involved with someone when their dates came. When I had meticulously plotted out their romantic little shitstain proposals, of course I would remember their dates. It also helped that their birthdays were right next to eachother… whatever. I’m not really emotionally involved with either of them at this point and it really wouldn’t make any sense for me to show up on the day to propose to either of them. Perhaps this was a bad example.

Fuck… I don’t know. Movie night? Someone I was once horribly enamored with friendzoned me. I can rock the friend-zone, that’s fine. Of course a part of being my friend means putting up patiently with my obnoxiously frequent bouts of silence, but hey. I’m sure that’s better than being a recurring nuisance. So anyway, I was given a drag name and I remembered that night as a sort of ‘birthday’ for this character we developed and the movie we watched when we did. So I came around the same day the following year, with that movie. That kind of thing.

I just wish I had a damn point to remembering anniversaries.

If you’re going to be romantic for nobody in particular, it’s just… cute.

Skullfuck cute, man. Ugh.

How do you tell someone you unceremoniously told to fuck off that it’s okay to come back?

Should I even?

What’s to stop me from repeating the whole “OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE YOU STILL TALKING ABOUT THE SAME BEATEN TOPIC? YES, I MISS YOU. YES, I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU. YES, THAT’S MONTHS AWAY. CAN WE TALK ABOUT SOMETHING NOW?” shitstorm I initiated the first time.

Or she initiated.

Whatever.

Is it really worth going through/risk-throughing conditions that are likely to result in nothing again?

SHOULD I REALLY be so fucking crushed this long after the fact? Is that how I’m going to suffer? Weeks later, it’s like a concussion, hasn’t started healing yet but is very obviously fucking with my ability to think properly. And I want to sleep as much as I possibly can in the hopes that it goes away like so much of an appetite.

I can’t even keep facts straight anymore. I’ve quit making a game of it. It’s not chess, I’m done trying to win, I’m done being the opposing side and would much rather be the lateral companion.

That could amount to a pretty satisfying win.

ASIDE: I have won a chess game by making my opponent cry rather than actually besting him at the game. He actually probably would have won.

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