The problem

I’ve figured it out. I know why all my relationships end in disaster, and I know why I can’t keep myself interest in a guy for more than a few weeks. Ah, revelation feels good.

You see, when I first meet a guy, I am charming. Typically, when I meet someone, I am in a good enough mood to go out into the world and socialize. And so we start chitchatting, and my quirks come out. I don’t think they are cute in the least bit, but apparently they can become attracting to the opposite sex. And my quirks entertain him and make him laugh, and I can feel it. I can feel his eyes dancing all over my body, twinkling with fascination and excitement. “Finally,” he will think, “I have found the girl I have been looking for.” Somewhere, between the chatter and the laughing, I have become the reality to his dream. We agree on something simple, like a mutual love for a band or a nerd TV show, and I am immediately thrust into his spotlight of interest. 

The problem is, he doesn’t even see half of me. It isn’t all rainbows and unicorns.

My girl friends tells me I flirt with everyone I come across, but that simply isn’t true. It isn’t flirting, it is me at my best. It is confident, sophisticated, slightly quirky, intelligent me. So, when a guy comes along and meets me at my best, that image is seared into his mind. That small portion of me is what he will try to always see me as, and when I don’t fit that image at some points, he becomes baffled. 

“You used to be so cheerful and outgoing. What happened?”

Nothing happened. 

There are so many layers to me, so many layers to all of us, that have yet to be figured out. And to put me on this pedestal just isn’t fair. I am always left in the dust wondering why he couldn’t accept me, my faults and all; wondering why my flaws are something to get angry at and run away from. 

They only see the very beginnings of me. I’m tired of apologizing for not meeting their standards. I’m tired of explaining why I am the way I am, why I have “changed”, when in reality I haven’t changed a bit. I don’t want to have to warn a guy that I have issues or that I am broken or damaged or anything like that. I shouldn’t have to, because everyone is. And that is why a guy can’t hold my interest for more than a few weeks. The first sign of intolerance or impatience, I’m out.

Expect good days, expect bad days. Expect for one to outweigh the other sometimes. Peel away my layers piece by piece, and look at them all with the same intensity and detail as the very first layer. Then you will know who I am. I am not a bubbly person. I am not a depressing person. But I am a person. A mixture of the good and the bad. 


About returntoneverland

All around procrastinator, screw-up extraordinaire.
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