I can’t even tell you how many blogs I’ve started, but never finished. They sit, half-written tangles of thoughts in my drafts folder until I finally go through and delete them. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to write about tonight, but I feel as if I’m in an emotional rut, and I need an escape. I figure talking (or I guess typing) through my vast mire of emotional muck might help clear things up a bit.
Growing up, my dad always told me that you had to pick your battles. You can’t win ‘em all, and you certainly shouldn’t try. That’s setting yourself up for failure. So carefully, over the past few years, I’ve learned how to pick my battles. The older I get, the more I feel that it takes a lot to push me into a fight. I get angry, I fume, I get over it, and I’m fine. Rarely do things last, and the things that do I get really angry about. Most of the time, the fight is not deemed worthy of my time, although I may act offended just to shake things up a bit. Well, tonight I picked my battle. . .and I lost. I lost big time.
It wasn’t anything important, or life-changing. Just an offhand comment that pierced my heart to its very center and I lashed back with everything I had left to give. It wasn’t much, I’ll tell you that right off the bat. It’s been an emotionally trying few weeks, for me, for my family. I’m tired of feeling. I’m tired of caring. I just wish that I could rip my heart out, watch it slowly stop beating, and move on with my life. However, I took everything that I’ve been feeling and channeled it into this one comment, consciously choosing to make a bigger deal than it should have been. Now I’m paying the price.
The comment was something along the lines of “why don’t you date, <name omitted>?” (Not to be cryptic, just not sure I’ve ever said my name, and it’s more interesting this way). It tore me to pieces, and I’ll attempt to explain why.
First, as much as I don’t like the situation that my sister is in at the moment, she has something I’m afraid I’ll never have. Unconditional love. I feel like a failure for never having dated anyone, and a disappointment to my family. My kid sister has got more gumption when it comes to love than I do. She might be dumb as rocks, but at least she knows how to share her heart. My dad always says that my sisters and I resemble the Dashwood sisters from Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. I’m Eleanor, the eldest. Quiet and reserved, feels things deeply but never shares. My sister is Marianne, to a “t.” She is emotional, dramatic, and has no problems falling in love or expressing her feelings. Whilst Eleanor does fall in love, and eventually marries the man she loves after quite a heartbreak, I’m not quite sure that my own tale will have such a happy ending.
Second, I am willing to accept responsibility for my actions, but I’m not going to let guys go without any blame. Our generation, and especially it feels my group of friends, does a LOT of hanging out, rather than dating. Sure, it’s fun to chill and just hang. Sometimes though, guys should ask girls on dates! It would be a nice change, for once, even if it was just between friends, and just for fun. Dates don’t have to be romantic, or even mean that there is interest.
Third, guys don’t date their friends. I think I’ve mentioned this casually a hundred times or more but guys really just don’t date their friends. I, on the other hand, want to date my friends. I think that it is so much easier for a girl to fall for one of her friends because he’s always there. He’s stuck around, grown on you and you can’t imagine a more perfect entrance to a relationship than dating someone who already likes/loves you for you. No getting to know you phase, no tricks, no pretending, no impressing to do. Guys don’t do this though! It’s so frustrating. You either get categorized into the “potential relationship” file or the “friends” file. I always find myself in the latter. I’m a damn good friend, and it sucks. . .a lot. I’m not the great beauty that catches your eye at the store. I’m the friend that’s there with you at the store. . .for moral support? Or just because?
Fourth, it’s hard putting yourself out there. It’s even harder when you have many times before, and always been rejected. It takes so much courage to say “Hey, I like you. And if you happen to like me back, which-I-think-you-do-because-all-my-friends-think-you-do-because-of-the-way-you-act-around-me-and-the-way-you-treat-me-and-I-think-you-might-because-of-things-that-you’ve-said-to-me-in-passing-randomly, then we should give this a try.” What sucks though, is that even when you think you’ve finally done everything right, and that all the signs are there, it’s still a no. Most likely for some inexplicable reason. “You’re a great girl. . .but I’m just not looking to be in a relationship right now” or “I’ve been hurt before by some mystery girl in my past that’s ruined my romantic future forever.” Hopefully there’s not some girl two weeks down the road who just happens to be the right girl, because that sucks even more. It’s hard though, and credit has to be given where credit is due. It takes guts to tell someone you like them. It takes more guts to accept rejection. It take the most guts to still be friends, good friends at that, after rejection has been doled out.
Fifth, sometimes a girl just can’t catch a break. Working full time, schooling full time, playing part-time when there’s not work and school leaves little time to explore new venues and meet new people. It’s especially hard when the group prefers movies, games, and ‘group things.’ It’s not like people come falling out of the sky, like meatballs. (Maybe it’s getting a little late).
Anyways, the point is. . .there wasn’t a point. It wasn’t a battle that was worth fighting, and I’m sorry. I really really am. I’m sorry that I took it so personally. I’m sorry that I don’t have a good reason. I’m sorry that I’m publically saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I say I’m sorry too much. I just want things to be right again. I don’t want to fight, and I now know to pick my battles extra super carefully. It’s more important just to remain friends than to let stupid arguments get in the way.
It takes great courage to see the world in all its tainted glory and still to love it. Wilde got it right, but I think I could amend it to say “it takes great courage to see your friends for who they truly are, in all their tainted glory and still to love them.”
