Warning: This is a retarded post made by a drunk. If you do not wish to read the ramblings of an idiot regarding another day in the life of a fool, stop reading right now.
None of you really know me. For the most part, all of the posts I have made have been pointless, unintelligent ramblings. And still, even though I don’t consider myself a necessary part of the Straight Dope Experience[sup]TM[/sup], you are the ones who rescue me from reality. Anyway, on with the point…
I have had two “real” relationships in my life. One lasted about two years. It was perfect. Everything was great, and I treated her like a queen. She was the reason I woke up every morning, and I would have done anything in the world to make her happy. Then one day, one evening, actually, she decided that we were not meant to be. She wound up a stripper, and I wound up stripped of all dignity. She removed her clothes, and I threw away my self respect.
The second relationship that actually mattered was long-distance. She lived about two hours away, and we saw each other often enough. I decided that it would be best for her to forget about me, and she wound up 2000 miles away. According to her e-mailed information, she is far happier in California than she could ever have been in Virginia. Kudos to me. Yee-Haw.
And now I find myself in my current predicament. The third time in my life I have allowed someone to come close to me, to know things that no one else may ever know, to hear me say things that no one else will ever hear, and to get silence in return. I am a doormat. I am a big bristly rug with the words “Welcome, we’re glad you came” scrawled across my overweight torso. This girl is used to hanging out with backstreet boy looking guys. Sexy guys with six packs and bleached hair. I’m just some guy in a tye-dye who is honest to the point of recklessness and careless regarding my appearance. According to her, I am a great guy, but I don’t have a chance. Go figure. Apparently she is looking for someone to use her. I’m not the sexy guy, I’m not the guy in the lexus, I’m not the guy with all the friends. I’m just the honest guy who would never hurt a soul, the guy who just can’t stand to be lonely, the guy whose broke because of school, the guy whose friends aren’t the prettiest. And of course, this isn’t good enough for her. I made the assumption that she was a little deeper than that, but of course, as usual, I bet wrong. What a shame…
[sub]Maybe if I start working out…[/sub]
