As I sit here on my couch on this lazy, Wednesday night, I can’t help but recall some of my past “relationships”. If you really wanted to call them that. Here I am, a 22-year-old average college student, who somehow balances a couple of jobs, and a weird social life. I look forward to my bright future, with dimmed lens, hoping to see past all of that rosy-colored shit. I seem to spend most of my free time alone, trying to figure out how to NOT be alone, trying to ponder life and all its entirety, or trying to figure out why “Guy A” has gone missing, or where “Guy F” drove off to (let’s face it, he probably drove off a cliff trying to figure out why he couldn’t spend the night with me.)
I carefully scan my overrated, iphone5whatever, and look through my hit-list of guys that I seem to actively be pursuing. Some I have talked to on countless occasions, some I have hooked up with, some I have fantasized about, and the others..well the others are downright idiots. Before you shoot the blame gun at me and tag me for some bimbo, let me just say, I definitely don’t have everything figured out. I am not some clever, 22-year-old girl who has it all mapped out, but I do know that I find myself attracting “The Douchebag”.
I try to reflect and remember some of my favorite “relationships” and some of my embarrassing flings. What did they all have in common? “The Douchebag Complex.” They had that perfect balance of tattoos, abs, height, and charisma. At the same time, they were closet nerds, who on the occasion had a paper to write. They sold themselves to me. I have to say, I know how to pick the winners. Not to completely objectify these men, or make them seem like prostitutes , but I have grown to become a douchebag myself.
I have this inner complex , who is a heartless, sassy , bitch and doesn’t settle for anyone. On the other hand, the sweet, adventurous side of me is dying to be explored. However, it doesn’t help that I scam poor men at the bars, or plot my plan of attack when I see a cutie at the local breakfast diner. I am a woman who is possessed. Possessed in the sense of douchebagery (not speaking about an exorcism here). I seem to have the idea of how to get a man into bed, how to kick him out, how to get what I want, and how to make sure I never speak to him again.
I am guilty of being a “Manizer”. It’s funny, because I feel like some guys just don’t sense that I have a game plan. Well, to be honest, most men that are within my age range don’t think about much. Guys love to ask me, “Why don’t you text me first?” or, “I always call you.” I am not sure if they are trying to get me to stroke their ego, or hoping that I stroke whatever rests in their pants. Most of the time, I want to shoo them away like a fly. “Shoo fly, You aren’t worth my time, nor do you have anything interesting to contribute, Shoo fly, don’t bother me.”
But my favorite line of all time: “I am not looking for anything serious.”
After talking to a guy for some specified time, they always question why I don’t talk to them anymore, or if they can see me again. The best one is, “When is the next time that I can come over?” I reply, ” You told me you didn’t want anything serious, should have thought about that a long time ago.” It’s called no-strings-attached for a reason. So, I am going to cut that line, and leave you hanging.
Life can be so cruel. However, I am not as cold-hearted as I seem. I believe in serious relationships, but it is hard to come by that mythological unicorn. I find that most people do not understand the meaning of what it means to be “serious”. I don’t take “love” as a joke. People laugh, but the saying “going steady” meant a lot back in the day. Whenever that day was. It seems so far off now because relationships have been given a new meaning. Instead of relationships, they should be called “relations” or “findings”. Only because you never get to truly understand someone by just drinking, smoking, eating, or my favorite; sleeping with them.
What is a “relationship”? I ask this question because I have only had one serious boyfriend, and let’s face it.. I was a senior in high school. Not like I know anything about dating, sex, or even how to go out for coffee. I am not an alien, but dating is a new thing for my generation (Pardon my sarcasm, but for this topic it’s greatly needed.)
It kills me. Conversing and having meaningful or thought provoking relationships are a dying breed. People no longer want to sit and talk all night long. They want to look at their television screen, macbookwhatever, or phone. People no longer want to invest quality time together. Is this the reason why I am a douchebag now? Have I tried to compromise human contact, which is instinctual, for this petty, demure, crap? It baffles me.
After complaining about all of this, there is hope. I met someone recently, and even though he may not be “Mr. Right”, Mr. Right Now” or “Mr. Right Ever” he is something worth investing my time in. Not just because I think he is intriguing, but because I have realized how valuable a relationship really is. How rare and special it can be. It doesn’t show its face often, but when it does, it’s basically saying that the moon turned blue. Despite all of this apathy, self-loathing, and sissy talk, I am hopeful that human interactions and spiritual connections are not dead. They are alive, they thrive and the right person will conjure those feelings for you, and bewitch your whole mind. I don’t believe in love at first sight, or a perfect romance, but there is a perfect romance for you. Even if you are like me, a douchebag.
All in all, if relationships were something that came around everyday, people would lose sight of its value and importance. To me, that is beautiful. It is beautiful, and inhuman to see that people can fall in love no matter what sex, gender, race, or whatever category they choose to be in.That despite our technological advances, societal setbacks, and hatred that we can find love. That the word “relationship” if taken out of context, has an actual meaning. It is a matter of defining, and separating the gray lines. Love is something celestial, that the sun is envious of. Shakespeare would murder me for my terrible poetic attempt, but “relationships” and “relations” are like “star-crossed lovers”. Once you find your happy place, you will find your “happy place”. Because to me, “relation” is the human interaction, the whole encompassing act and the “ship” is the boat that keeps you together. Relationships are as rare as the single burning cell in your body, that you never knew existed, but its presence is felt. And once it’s gone, the stars will be the only thing that seem rare to you.
Remember: To give you some hope in this bittersweet world, this is all coming from a douchebag.