I’m not too good with commitment; I think everyone with a tendency to over-think/analyze things – as friends of mine will confirm that I do all too well – is also. Heck, it took me four attempts just to find a First Sentence I could stick with. So as you’ve probably guessed, this article is about my (usually failed) relationships – or lack thereof – with girls . . . and then women (not necessarily when I got older – yeah, I’m shrugging right now. Haha).
Okay, I guess it’s only fair to state my main motivation for this: everyone I know (friends; acquaintances and colleagues) – who isn’t as emotionally-retarded as I constantly seem to be – is in a committed relationship: my sister, along with most of my cousins, is married and my brothers are both engaged. I, on the other hand, have not had a “girlfriend” since 2008 – yeah, I’ll let that sink in. . . . . . .
So, now that we’re over THAT; I’m going to go as far back as I remember and hopefully stumble upon the cause of my current state – yeah, I think I know it already but how good would this article be if I didn’t draw the story out so that there was some cathartic conclusion to it?
Yeah, it would still be a near–reminiscent rant of an emotionally–retarded overgrown boy SO; I’m going to just get to the meat of the story because seriously; how long can a three-paragraph introduction get? (that question’s rhetorical – that statement was obvious)
OKAY, no more stalling: when I was fourteen, I made a decision which, in hindsight may be the root cause of my emotional-retardation. The decision was to not express my negative emotions (mainly anger) to whoever made me feel them; this would – unknowingly so – keep me from expressing any emotion whatsoever.
This wasn’t a problem until I started dating a girl two years later (when my lack of expression was in full force) whom I was in love with; well, as much as a sixteen year old with an emotional “problem” can be. She wanted to change a few things about me, which I cannot – or just won’t – state so we she broke up with me; you can imagine my shock when her friends came to me afterwards to ask me what I’d done to her. CAN YOU IMAGINE?!?! – wait, I already said you could.
Anyway, one of the things she wanted to change about me was my expression of my feelings – yeah, we’ve established the lack thereof by now so I’ll just call it this from here on. In all fairness to her, I couldn’t have been that great to be in a relationship with, I’m sure she would’ve received more emotional fulfilment from a plank: she still would’ve been as emotionally-unfulfilled; but she would’ve at least expected it.
So, I got my heart broken and I HATED it – yeah, I know how I don’t have a monopoly on that – so I did what any inexpressive fool would do, I decided to carry on with my expression of my feelings; even worse, I decided that I would be more detached in relationships until I was sure that they were going somewhere; this would have a VERY unexpected result: all the girls/women hooked up with (I say “hooked up” because I didn’t quite view them as relationships – which is sad because they did) had dads which, I later came to find out, were just as detached as I was; this made my flings end up as one-sided relationships.
I was more than happy to carry on this way until I realised that I don’t have a date for some things . . . or I have a different date the next time.
So, now I’m trying to be less of a plank; unfortunately I spent too long doing so and I have to learn to “unplank” myself.
So, after all that time committing to not committing; I’m working my way back to committing to something less cowardly; standby for results.
So, this can’t be as cathartic as I wanted, but that’s what happens with unfinished tales so I suppose the thing to do would be to say: to be continued.
May the light in all things be with you.