Honestly, why the fuck is it so hard? It's 1:20am on a Saturday morning and I'm sitting here and my head has been spinning for days and days on end. Sure I could attribute that to the job and my utter lack of a break due to driving people around (which is a pleasure to do, but my gosh it wears on you), but there is another distinct factor, and that is all of the amazing women that I've been surrounded with all summer.
Now some of them may read this blog, or at least some of my co-workers, but this isn't about them. Or at least it shouldn't be. It's about how I grew up thinking that this was supposed to be straight-forward: you meet a great girl, you dig her, you tell her she's a great girl and that she should dig you back, and there you go. My experiences though have been anything but.
Why? Well for that we have to do a little segment I like to call 'How did we get here?' When I was in high school, I didn't really meet that many people outside of my school or hometown. My life focused on Humboldt High; I wanted to leave it desperately, which is why I tried to do everything I could to enhance my record for college. Anyway, I didn't really interact with new girls all that much (there's also the fact that I was the *friend* for all of the girls at the school); my first date wasn't until after I graduated. I was left out on the entire experience of 'boy meets girl, boy dates girl.'
So college was when I had to pick up the learning curve for all of this stuff, and over the last few years I've gotten exponentially better at talking to new people, and especially women. I've gotten to a point where I can truly be myself in a lot of situations that I had never dealt with before I moved to Lawrence.
Until lately. There is this one girl I know who has me absolutely bum-fuzzled; everything I've learned about myself in the last few years goes out the window when I am around her, and my mind comes to a halt and says 'Fuck man, hell if I know.' So I stand there and think 'Should I mention this? No I shouldn't mention this. Hey I could talk about that? Shit, nah. How close should I stand? Did I just laugh at that?' And this goes on and on until she walks away and then I replay everything that happened, wondering why I didn't do the things I should've.
I'm not saying this is a bad thing on her, but that unfortunately I become so paralyzed with the fear of trying too hard that I end up not trying hard enough, and that's a fine fucking line anyways, let alone when you're always on guard against looking like a dork or seeming transparent.
Ugh, I'm tired and I've been wanting to go to bed for the last couple of hours. Tomorrow I might regret putting such personal stuff on here, but for tonight it's all out on the table.
I spent a lifespan with no cellmate
The long way back
Sandy, why can't we look the other way?
You're weightless, semi-erotic
You need someone to take you there
–Interpol, 'Evil'
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