Wasting Time

I'm not talking about just an afternoon or a day. I'm talking about wasting like an entire fucking year. Which I did, in 2010. I wasted my time dating a dude who apparently wasn't dating me. We were 'friends', as he likes to repeat over and over again. Apparently friends:

Cuddle
Hug (mostly initiated by him, with the request to squeeze)
Spend every waking moment together and most nights together
Make sad faces when you say you won't spend the night (him)
Make out
Fuck
Meet parents (I met his multiple times and helped put together their entertainment center)
Take each other out to dinner
and
Share their most intimate secrets, fears, hopes, etc, shit you don't usually tell even your friends

Most of my friends SUCK (prudes) by that definition, but then again I don't think that is describing a friendship so much as it sounds like dating. But, what the fuck do I know? I'm still single.

So, it all came crashing down after spending an entire weekend together, after having a really deep and personal conversation where he told me things he said he hadn't told others and having sex. We were spooning and he decided to tell me that he was dating someone else. Tactful, no?

So, I banished dude from my life. For a solid three months and I was HAPPY. But assholes do like they do and he crept back in. With all this sobbiness about how his friends are mean to him, how he doesn't know if he likes this girl, how he is depressed, how he thinks of breaking things off with her so that I'll come to stupid fucking trivia night at his house. I'm empathetic. It hurt my heart because I think I loved this dude and you don't like to see people you care about in pain. And I was hopeful. Maybe he missed me. And I'm terrified of dying old and alone. So, whatever. I'll be your friend.

But being friends means that sometimes if I call or text he won't answer because he is with her. It means that sometimes we can't hang out, because I refuse to cross paths with my replacement. I don't want to sit around some skinnier than me bitch with a PhD who is apparently good enough for him to label girlfriend and think of all the reasons why I'm not. I don't know what she looks like (a friend told me she was UGLY-maybe for my feelings, but all the same, I hope she is) and I do that anyway. Every time I hang out with this dude it makes me sad because it isn't the same. And because my constant inner monologue turns into "You are too slutty, too stupid, you drink too much, you are too dumb, you are fat, you are ugly, you are boring, you are unworthy, you would be better off dead." FOR REAL. This dude makes me feel so bad about myself that I think I would rather be dead and I am hanging out with him because HE is depressed. Fuck that. 

I got uber embarrassingly emotional. Having a mini melt down because he wouldn't hang out with me because she was going to be around. I was hating on myself sooooooooo bad, crying in my car on the way home from work, anticipating a lonely evening, when inspiration (self righteousness? self preservation?) hit.  I sent him a text that just said "I'm sorry. I can't do this. Please leave me alone." And so he has.

I expect my mood to continue to improve exponentially.

I was kind of jealous of this chick. Until I realized I wasn't. Like, congrats on getting a dude who doesn't like to leave the house, expresses his uncertainty about you to other women, even suggesting getting rid of you for them and who is disappointing in bed. And NEVER talks. Not to mention a limited ability to be joyful and fun. Insert sarcastic Charlie Sheen 'Winning' joke here.

I think, ultimately, it wasn't even about this guy. It was about the rejection and my own insecurities that no one will ever again want to bestow upon me that all important title 'girlfriend'. Giving into those fears though, leaves you trippin about substandard men or dating one because you are desperate not to be alone. It's like Savannah says in Waiting to Exhale-"Men are really good at making women feel like they should be desperate. Thank God I don't buy that shit." Amen.

Look-in a word (ok 3 words), I'm pretty fucking awesome. I graduated cum laude with double majors. I work at an art museum. I have more hobbies than you can shake a stick at. I volunteer. I maintain a blog with 2,000 hits in the 3 months its been up. I'm smart and can hold a decent conversation. I'm funny (or at least I crack me up). I'm pretty able to get down in any situation. I'm fun. And mother fuckers love to be around me. Plus, I think I have a nice ass. Or, at least, I like it's shape. There's nothing wrong with me because some asshole won't call me girlfriend. There would be something wrong with me if I LET some ASSHOLE call me GIRLFRIEND just for the sake of the title. For real.

Wasting time on dudes is not cool. Life is short. And I'm too awesome.