My regimen for a date? Same as any day, but with slightly more concealer and a touch of mascara. I am very low-maintenance.
There are many things about this world and about the people around me that I do not understand. Many things I think are normal that turn out to be strange or vice versa. I’m not sure how this happened exactly; my parents are objectively normal members of society. I don’t know where I got these ideas.
When I was little, I never thought fart jokes were funny. I was never amused by quips about bodily functions. I’ve seen in movies and books the idea that every kid finds fart jokes funny at some point, and burping too. I never did. I legitimately don’t understand what could possibly be funny about them. I don’t want to try to ask anyone about it, but I suspect the answer might be “They just are” or something to that nature, as if the humor is inherent.
I never liked the random games people would play, because I didn’t like rules that would inconvenience me. If someone ever “jinxed” me, I would roll my eyes at them and give them a derisive stare before I would go on talking. If I were playing truth or dare and I was asked or told something I didn’t want to do, I wouldn’t do it. The others would be upset with me that I wasn’t “playing by the rules”, but I would get so frustrated because I didn’t want to play in the first place. I was only there joining in on their activities because I felt like it was normal, like it was something I was supposed to do. I tried to pretend like I was having fun, but I really wasn’t.
Though I am in college, I see no appeal in alcohol. Though I am very shy, I force myself to go to the parties held by people at school that seem to at least nominally accept me. I sit there while all they do is flip over cards or roll dice that tell them how much they get to drink. It makes me feel so sad because I literally cannot fathom why this is fun. “Let’s destroy our internal organs with liquids that will literally make our stomachs reject them.” Why is this entertainment? Why can we never do anything else? Maybe I’m strange, but I really enjoy a good challenging board game, or a card game that doesn’t involve how many shots my “friends” can throw down without passing out. Oh, sometimes they’ll have a couple people playing video games or something, but usually if we’re doing something that doesn’t involve alcohol it’s because we’ve gone out to do something, like eating at a restaurant. So I have to pay not to sit and watch my friends drink? Last night was one of those get-togethers, everyone in a circle with their own aims to get plastered. I sat there watching them, because I felt like I was still “supposed to” be there even if I wasn’t having any fun. The night dragged on and everyone stopped talking to each other and instead shouting about how one person or another had to drink. I wanted to go home so badly, to not be there, but I felt trapped in my chair, like it would be some kind of “serious party foul” if I tried to leave. I was there probably an hour longer than I wanted to be before I finally summoned up the courage to rise from my chair and grab my jacket. If this is how other gatherings are going to go (and precedent seems to be set up for that), I’m not sure I want to go next time. I will, though, because even friends that make me feel uncomfortable and awkward are supposed to be better than spending the time alone in my room. That’s supposed to be the case. Why doesn’t it feel that way? I don’t understand.
I buy and make things for my friends a lot. I even do this for friends I don’t know as well, ones to whom I don’t owe that social obligation. I always say that my favorite part of a gift giving holiday is watching the recipient’s face light up upon oppening my present. Only, I sometimes wonder if that’s less just from a selfless desire to see them happy than it is a feeling of security that they won’t leave me.
I have had several friends leave me over the years. I don’t hang out with anyone from SSPP. I had a group at CG that abandoned me in a cruel way. I’ve had friends who just stopped contacting me, friends I gave up on because I hated feeling like I’m forcing them to spend tim with me. Gift giving has become a sort of self-preservation. If I make them happy, they won’t leave me. If they feel taken care of, I won’t have to be alone. Only, I still feel alone mostly.
My brother’s Christmas gifts to me this year represented the first time in a long time I’ve felt like someone really cared if I was happy. Sure, he got the ideas off a wish list, but he still chose 5 items off 6 pages and managed to find some of the best ones. He remembers what I tell him as if it matters.
Sure, I’ve had other presents in the past that I’ve liked okay, but for me it’s really all about the thought. I consider gifts in advance and put in hours of labor creating them just so someone can smile. I never believe them, never think I’ve done quite enough to keep them. I can’t help but feel as though they will all leave me some day. In my worst fears I end up old and alone, dying in my house with no one finding me, noticing I’m gone, until I’ve started to decompose.
Maybe that’s a little morbid, but I can’t help it. I don’t know how to feel better.
“When I say I love you, I want to say something more. What I’m trying to say is ‘I like you’ and everything you felt for Vanessa, I felt for you too except you got your heart broken just once. I get mine broke every day, every time you don’t look at me the same way I look at you. And I know this ruins everything and I know this makes thinks awkward… I mean, we’re supposed to be friends and, I mean, is it selfish of me to want more than that? I want all of you, Joey Richter, and all I have to give in return is myself. I wish I could give you more. I’m sorry.” – Sally (Me and My Dick)
A surprisingly poignant speech in the middle of a musical about genitalia.
Malachi: I don’t kiss and tell.
Luke: Come on, man. I tell you everything. I told you about the time Kelly Sheel stuck the finger up my arse.
Malachi: Yes, and I did not wish to know that.
Yesterday, my mother and I went to Red Robin for lunch. At the end of the meal I did something I’ve never done before. I slipped my phone number into the bill sleeve along with our tip.
My mom laughed at me for doing so, but I felt strangely empowered by it. I’ve always been so shy, so frustratingly reticent, that I never believed I could be so forward. Yes, I did leave it and run, but that’s still a pretty big leap forward in a way.
I don’t really expect anything to come of it, but it makes for a fun story nonetheless.
I fall asleep in the fetal position every night as I wish for a safer and worthier world.