“Learning to live takes a whole life”
-Seneca
Diary entry from March 23, 2017
I ran again this morning, blah blah blah.
I posted things to social media and waited around for likes, blah blah blah.
I thought about L. and wished/doubted that she was thinking about me, blah blah blah.
I am a romantic idiot. Haven’t you learnt yet that life doesn’t work the way you want it to work?
I’ve been thinking about L. for weeks, and does she have any clue that you’re interested in her? Absolutely not. And how do YOU know that you’re even ready for a relationship? Maybe she’s not searching for anything like that either. You’re a perfect fool. What are you hoping for? That she is going to be so overcome with emotion from your hackneyed FecesBook posts that she’s going to telephone you immediately and ask you on a date? What if she’s got somebody better on her radar?
What can I say? I’m already looking forward to the next Tuesday morning 3RUN2 meet-up. Why? Because you made such a strong impression last Tuesday? You didn’t even acknowledge her existence, you fucking idiot. What a true fool. 37 years old and a complete buffoon with women—no clue whatsoever.
What would you even say? Imagine for a moment that you accepted her offer to drive you home on a Thursday evening after run club. What would you say as she eased her car toward the curb near the weird yellow house wherein I haunt the upper floor. Imagine she’s looking at you with those sparkling blue eyes. What do you say? I was wondering if you have plans sometime this weekend? Voice warbling like a prepubescent knucklehead. I was wondering if you might maybe wanna get coffee sometime possibly?!? What a perfectly moronic plan.
What are you afraid of? I think it’s fair to assume that she’s got at least some minor amount of interest in you. Interest is relative though. Interest like the way I’m interested in her? Or interest like the way I’m interested in selling all my worldly possessions and becoming a beach yogi drifter in Ecuador?
What do you say? What should/could/would you say? She’s staring at you with those eyes: cool, blue, deep, full of light and life—out of my league gorgeous. And all you can muster is: Thank you so much for the ride. Uhm, have a good night?
Try again, sonny.
While you sit here, “hemming and hawing” as Mom might say, L. is losing interest. Are you trying to sabotage yourself? I think I am! I want this to fail before it can even begin, so I can look back from some distant future and say, “damn, Dipstick, you could have had it all, but you never took your shot.” So that I can forever wonder “what could have been” rather than experiencing the expectation, exhilaration, exploration of the pursuit.
This seems like a pretty credible realization.
I am sabotaging myself. To protect my fragile, precious, hungry baby-bird ego, I avoid the difficult—and best—parts of life: the uncomfortable parts. This is good…I feel like I am on the right track here! I prefer misery to happiness, don’t I? I see myself as Elliott Slantwise Smith: a dark, tragic figure who needs to feed off his own misery in order for his art to be meaningful, and ends up thrusting a steak knife into his own heart. Everyone will call me a fraud if my art is anything but authentic and informed by the deep despair and grief inherent in my own lived experience.
What a sham, man! What a sad, simple sham. That’s no way to live. Anyway, if you were gonna be an artist, you woulda been one before now.
I’m suddenly feeling enthusiastic that I have discovered (or rediscovered?) this about myself. It only took 37 years of failed relationships. What does a successful relationship look like? I guess one in which the other person either brings a dowry of joy, novelty, passion, and brunch into your life (not fucking likely), or one in which she is as interested in your personal growth as she is in her own. F! Where is all this solid relationship advice coming from all of a sudden? #NotMad.
Okay, so now what are you gonna do about it, asshole? Why don’t you write a few more tear-stained pages about it? That’s helping push your goal forward, isn’t it?
