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Nice Guys Get Shit On

A friend once told me that when you wrong someone, you must apologize, and then move on. Well, depending on how “wrong” you actually were to the person in question, this task can be a lot easier said than done. It can also be particularly difficult when you’re the villain in the story.

And, kids, it just so happens that in this story, I am the villain.

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Out of the two, what’s more upsetting: Intentionally or unintentionally hurting someone? Sure, you’re obviously a piece of dog shit if you seek out to hurt a person, if that’s your true goal or agenda. But what does it say about me if I was hurting someone, and didn’t even realize it at the time? Does that mean I’m oblivious? Self-centered? Too self-involved to function? All of the above, perhaps?

In case you haven’t figured it out, I recently hurt someone. Yes, it was unintentional, but that doesn’t make it any easier knowing that someone is out there suffering because of me — especially when I’ve been on the other side of the equation . . . more times than I care to admit. But, simply put, this guy wanted a relationship, and I didn’t.

God must have a sense of humor. That’s the only explanation I can come up with, because, oddly enough, I do want a relationship — or, at least I thought I did. A year ago, I tried to form a bond with every Tom, Dick, and Harry (and Mike, Peter, Sam, Tony, Aaron) that came my way. Seriously, I was like Sherlock fuckin’ Holmes, desperately searching for any sort of clue that would help lead me to a lasting commitment of some sort. I can honestly say that I worked my way through a lot of dicks (pun intended). But, then again, a guy’s gotta eat.

But how do you know when it’s the right one? Or, in this case, the right guy? When do you take that chance, that leap of faith, and give it your all? How do you know that you’re not settling, but have actually found Mr. Perfect?

They say when it’s right, you just know . . . like a shooting star, or a urinary tract infection. Well, I have a question: Who the fuck is “they?” Definitely not my friends. Their track records read like the obituaries. They also say that when you least expect it, that’s when it happens: You get hit by a bus. And, also, you meet someone.

By the way, “they” can go fuck themselves.

That’s how it happened for me. A typical Wednesday night out: Pre-game with wine, followed by a few craft beers, a shot or two, a Coors Light chaser, and then some mild dancing. Nothing too crazy. Like I said, it was a Wednesday.

Anywho, the only justification I can give is that when I met this guy, I wasn’t fully prepared for it. Two weeks went by in a blur, a blur in which I now feel like I somewhat lost myself. And while it’s perfectly okay to lose yourself — refreshing, even — I think it’s imperative to find a balance. Going from zero to sixty may seem like a great ride, but what happens when the car runs out of gas?

Now would be a good time to mention that this guy, this extremely nice guy, did absolutely nothing wrong. Hell, he even sent cheesecake to my house — twice. Like I said, I’m the villain in this story. The only other thing I’ve ever had a guy deliver to me was, well, never mind. My point is that we were having fun, and somewhere amongst all that fun, I unintentionally led this guy on. I never had a plan to form a partnership with him (other than a friendly one), yet we continued to spend time together, and get to know each other. In the process, unfortunately, one of us fell, and one of us didn’t.

I’ll admit that it’s quite possible I’m too immature for a romantic relationship right now. I mean, I’m only twenty-one years old. Okay, fine! I rounded down. But be it age, timing, issues with commitment, or whatever, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not ready to be a grown up. Therefore, I’m not ready to be in a grown-up relationship. As cliched (and gay) as it may sound, being single is fabulous. I’m not ready to give that up, and I’m not ready to consider someone else’s needs or wants before my own.

So, it looks like we’re back at square one. Maybe I’m too self-centered or self-involved. Maybe I have trouble showing affection, or letting others know that I care about them. Or, maybe I just don’t know what I want, or what I’m looking for exactly, and need to be alone until I figure it out.

But I can’t help but wonder: If nice guys really do finish last (i.e. get shit on), then who finishes first? And if finishing first is at the expense of someone else’s feelings, is being in first place really worth it? After all, relationships are hard, and someone is bound to get hurt at some point. But should that frightening fact stop us in our tracks? Or should it propel us forward, knowing that we could meet Mr. Perfect next week, next month, next year . . . or even tomorrow?

This blog is my apology. I can admit when I’m wrong, and I was wrong. I should have been more upfront from the very beginning. I guess I got caught up in all of the “fun.” It’s hard to judge these gray areas. I mean, how soon is too soon to say, “I’m not looking for anything serious?” After one night together? Maybe two?

Regardless, never give up on what you’re looking for — a partner, career, the perfect apartment . . . a dream — whatever it may be. Like they say, it happens when you least expect it.

 

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