In the last year and a half, I’ve legitimately liked exactly three people. The best man of my sister’s wedding who I ended up seeing for about a month but it never really went anywhere. A guy I met at one of my best friend’s wedding–we danced all night–and then flirted shamelessly around for a couple months but nothing ever really happened, and then he stopped texting. And the guy I currently like who I’ve known for over a year, since we’re in the same group of friends. We’ve kind of drunkenly hooked up a few times, but in all honestly, I was kind of avoiding admitting the fact yes, I do actually really kind of like him.
Here’s the thing (and yes, I’m very aware this is going to sound incredibly silly): I don’t know how to like someone.
Which is why I’ve been wary of admitting that I like him, if only because it things get messy. Drunk times is one things, but the morning after is why things get complicated. I’ve seen the dark side of relationships, both my own and others, and it makes me wonder if it’s ever really worth it. And yes, I know, it can be lovely. I was in one of those lovely relationships. I can point you to a variety of lovely dovey entries where I was so in love, love was so wonderful, blah blah blah. Hell, a week before my big life changing break up I was gushing about my future with Andrew. And then? Well, I think the rest is history.
My point is, I long ago gave up on the idea of needing a guy to make me happy or complete. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be nice, but so is being single. There is a safety to only having to count on myself. Good or bad, I’m with myself for the long run. But other people can hurt you. And this is why I’ve relished my crushes, but I haven’t invested too much in them. I don’t know how. It’s liking I’m missing he ability to let myself go, to admit it out loud, to push that feeling aside because I know in the end, it won’t really matter.
People ask me, a lot, “Are there any special boys in your life?” Family, friends, random people. It’s as though since I was a girlfriend for so long, it’s just natural that I would go back to being one. But I haven’t, and I’m not sure I want to. And when I answer that, it’s always a strange look, as though there is something wrong with me. I guess it was just assumed I would move on to someone new. I’ve moved on, no doubt. And technically there have been new people, if you know what I mean. But no one special, worth bringing home to Mom and Dad. I think this is why I suddenly feel so screwed up with the idea. Liking someone… it confuses my head. Because then I start to wonder, already knowing what the outcome is. Except I long ago learned that hard lesson. And I don’t want to do it again.
So what’s my point in all this rambling? Hell if I know. Obviously I’m just as confused as you are probably reading this.
Sometimes I just wish there was an instruction’s manual–the idiots guide to dating. chapter one: liking someone. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so much like I’m losing my mind.