Monday, June 13, 2011

It's All Just Ambiguous Expendable Bullshit

Ever have a life situation where it's like you're playing a game and the game is fun, then one day you're thinking "wait a minute, this game is getting old, it's not fun anymore!"? The game ceases to be fun when there is no end, when there is no WINNING. At the same time, when you can't define what winning is, you're forced to continue playing a frustrating game. Then you think to yourself, "fine, I'll just stop playing." But, doesn't that mean you lose? And what is worse? Losing or playing a game you can't win? Yeah, I'm gonna go with losing on this one.

I'm hoping that putting a couple of $5 words in the title makes up for the rambling pity-fest you're about to read. I probably shouldn't even be writing about this... Maybe it's just yet another overreaction. Seems I have been assuming something for the past year that evidently wasn't true. I'm not talking something trivial like assuming that everyone loves bacon, I'm talking something that makes me think of the cliche "assume makes an ass of u and me", except this time I'm kinda the only one who has been made an ass of. It's not the first time, it won't be the last - it's certainly not hard to make me look stupid and naive (even if I am neither), especially if you have a penis and a few choice, suave words (I'm a sucker for an ego stroking).

As it turns out, just because you are sleeping together on a regular basis, talking on the phone a few times a week and showering together occasionally doesn't mean that you are an actual couple. In fact, you're probably nothing more than glorified fuck buddies and no matter how much you want to believe differently, when nothing is being said it's just a stupid stupid move on your part to assume you are anything more. He might tell that Mexican dude in the bar that you are his girlfriend, but that's just so the other dude doesn't try to take you home with him (as if you would go home with that dude, anyway). See, if it's been like a year and his friends aren't really sure what to call you and just end up assuming you're "special friends" then he obviously doesn't think highly enough of you to present you, unambiguously, as his "girlfriend", "lady", "partner" or even "better half".

The best part of all of this is finding out from someone else. Enjoying some good music (that you busted your ass to get home in time to see your "special friend" play) and basically having the bomb dropped on you. It's not as if it's anything more than confirming what you already knew deep down, but after this long, it would be nice to hear it from the source. Then you have to spend the rest of the evening smiling and pretending like nothing is wrong while you're sitting there working all of this information out in your head and it begins dawning on you that, yeah, you knew this - but that still doesn't make it any less difficult to swallow. You feel like a vibrator that's seen too many sets of D batteries - your battery door is held on with duct tape and the only setting that still works is supersonic jackhammer. You don't get much use any more and you're rotting away in a drawer. That was a stupid analogy but you get the point.

The best part of this all is... (Wait, I had a "best part" already, yeah well I guess it just keeps getting better!!!) ...When the realization of being had comes one day before the semi-official one year mark (consummation if you will) of this ambiguous union. I'm probably supposed to be angry. Most people would probably agree that I would have every right to be downright livid. Thing is, I chose to make assumptions based on equivocal, at best, information and subtleties instead of growing some fucking balls and asking that things be made 100% clear.

Today, I feel like someone has played the cruelest possible joke on me... The worst part of this feeling is the realization that I've been playing the joke on myself. I've been warned from every possible angle and I chose to ignore it either because I am naive or because I believe in things greater than myself, in giving the benefit of the doubt. I'm a fucking SUCKER, either way.


  1. Been there, done that. Life is a cruel bitch sometimes...

  2. Not that it will likely make you feel any better, but from my experience almost everyone goes through situations like this in their lives... it just means that you have a strong heart and the ability to love... It's a lot better than the many individuals impervious to emotions.

    I also admire you for writing about it publicly, I think most people hide in their closet for numerous weeks avoiding everyone. I also think that the person in question may not be too bright; I think only a select few amongst our population are highly intelligent, let alone with a personality, good writing skills, a computer science background, female, and attractive... you're more than one in a million.

  3. That's pretty much one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me... Wanna go on a date, Anonymous??? Wait, are you a chick? Even if you are, it's cool, Facebook thinks I should be a lesbian.

  4. I've never had anyone ask me if I was a chick before, but it's exciting to know you're not picky :)

    And, sure I'd be honored to go on a date with you, but only under two conditions: (1) you don't force me to listen to meatloaf at any time, and (2) I get to keep my hair.

  5. HAHAHA, well I can't see you so... And it's a deal, but only if your idea of a good date is beer, wings and watching Presidential debates (and making fun of Mitt Romney).

    1. Yea, little lady; you really sound fun, like a conundrum! lol
      Keep Swimming, and always wining the argument, respectfully yours.

  6. Beer, wings, and an actual debate would be the best date ever... and making fun of Spit Commnie is always fun... although it's difficult finding a real debate, I prefer scouring liberal bars and very structurally educating our drunken youth... but then I suppose that's a better second date. When is the next debate? I should be able to find a sitter and get to PA by then. Oh... and I suppose it's not fair for me to stay anonymous, although doesn't hollywood make billions off building suspense? I'll send you an email with a pic so you can see my really long goofy looking dreads all tied up Joe Dirt post-parental reunion style... :)

  7. I told you we "Pigs" have these problems.
    Don't forget to run "NEW" possibilities through my "BIRTHDAY FILTER".
    That offer was given to you before... ;-)

  8. I did!!! This was the one! You did advise me against though!