My four-month anniversary is coming up and it only took 28 years and 11 months to achieve. From the moment I was born, I was built to sabotage myself into being alone. In junior high, a girl literally told me I was cute, and I sarcastically said something about how fantastic that was and then ran away. Granted, that was junior high, but really Jeremy? Really?
In high school a girl asked me if I wanted to tan with her in her backyard. I responded by telling her I couldn’t because I had to do math homework and I didn’t even have any math homework. A few weeks later I volunteered to watch X-Men with her little brother. I don’t remember my thought process during this whole ordeal, but I imagine it’s similar to that of a crystal meth addict weaning himself off over the course of maybe one hour and suffering severe withdrawals. “Hey! I know you’re really cute and want to lay shirtless with me, but I’d rather watch a movie with your brother.” I wouldn’t have blamed her if she never spoke to me again. And she didn’t.
In college, a girl in my apartment told me I was the most attractive man she works with, and then I told her goodbye and she left.
I don’t know which one of these three scenarios is worse, but it doesn’t matter. If none of these had occurred, I wouldn’t have learned to not do stupid things, and wouldn’t have forced myself to rebuild my life. I would have settled down with one of these three women, remained fat and horrible, and she eventually would have divorced me. I do want to note that fat and horrible are two separate things, and your body size says nothing about you as a person. It was just another factor that made me feel miserable.
I needed to fall in order to get myself back up. I am now back up, but still limping. The most glaring difference in my life is my girlfriend. I know bragging about my girlfriend in a blog about online dating sounds pompous, but I think I’ve been self-conscious on here for long enough to merit that.