Hate me today. Hate me tomorrow. Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you.
Hate me in ways, yeah ways hard to swallow. Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you. – “Hate Me,” Blue October
I would never wish functional depression on anyone. Not those I dislike, those who dislike me, anyone. It’s brutal. It’s exhausting. And right now it feels like all I have.
I have never been anyone’s first choice when it comes to dating. My First Girlfriend was in a relationship with our boss when we decided to get together, and she admitted years later that she never got over him. The Ex admitted multiple times she never got over the one woman who broke up with her first. Obviously Poly Girl chose her husband long before me. Farm Girl often compared me to an ex of hers that she was still hung up on, and years later is now marrying. The number of straight girls I’ve had crushes on obviously aren’t going to choose me first. The Sister can’t get passed her ex dude, even to the point that her daughter now tells me about how much they fight.
As I have navigated through the world of relationships, that is one fact that I continue to come back to and get hung up on- I’ve never been a first choice. No one will ever sabotage a future relationship because they can’t get over me. I am another link in the chain, a step on the ladder. And even though it bothers me enough to give me a legitimate mental barrier, I also subconsciously understand it. It’s what I deserve.
“An ounce of peace is all I want for you. Will you never call again? And will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face? And will you never try to reach me? It is I that wanted space.”
I’ve never considered myself dateable. On many levels. I have weird personal habits. I battle functional depression. I’m overall not a very good person. I drink too much. I’ve started taking pills to cover some of the pain. I’m butch enough that I often get mistaken for a dude. Same with my deep voice. I’m socially awkward. I have zero game. I hurt those I love. I’m selfish. The list is long… So as much as I wallow in self pity, deep down I know all those women are better off being hung up on someone else. They are better off not even starting something with me because it won’t end well anyway. It’ll just… end.
“So I’ll drive so fucking far away that I never cross your mind. And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind.”
The battle for my emotional stability is never ending. For example, lets look at how my relationship with The Sister is playing out. She has admitted she’s not over her ex dude. She says she doesn’t want to start anything with me because of that, however she continues to hang out with me, text me daily, flirt and make physical contact. Then she says she wants to take things slow and let whatever is going to develop just develop on its own. From then on, every time we hang out she begins sitting farther away. She doesn’t text as often. She still makes some physical contact but not as much. I am dumb and open up to her a few times about myself, things I’m confused by, etc. She also asks me why I even like her, which I open up about too. These things cause her to go silent and quit texting altogether. She’ll respond back to questions and small talk, but even then it takes hours. And the last time we got together I asked her if she wanted to hang out with me and her daughter or get together after her daughter was in bed. She said with her daughter. She then basically let me play and hang out with her daughter while she did laundry and messed around on Facebook and texted people. It was also the first time she didn’t text me afterward to tell me she had a good time. So OBVIOUSLY my over-thinking kicks into high gear… She doesn’t like me. Or if she did she’s realized not as much as the dude. Or she’s realized I’m not her type or whatever. So that battle begins to play out in my head. Then the second battle starts… the one where I tell myself “of course she doesn’t like you! Look at all the reasons why she wouldn’t!” And my list of faults and failures plays out on the screen inside my head. Why would she like me enough to want to hang out more, or kiss me, or sit close to me on the couch? It’s better for her if she doesn’t, right?
Now I’ve begun what I always do- I’ve started pushing her away. I’ve begun trying to close off my heart from my head so I quit feeling the confusion and the hurt and the loneliness. I’ll start to walk away and see if she follows at all. Or tries to ask me where I’m going. Or cares at all. I’d blame it on being a Leo, but I hate it when people do that. It’s a character flaw. I don’t believe people will stick so I test them. I also don’t believe people SHOULD stick, so I push them. Pretty vicious cycle. My chest hurts. I’m not sleeping very well. Have I mentioned functional depression is a bitch?