I think maybe it feels like so long ago I was in school because of how stressed I was then...finals, drama, and whatever else decided to weigh me down. After I moved back home, things became simpler, and moreso less stressful. And while being a part of the unemployed percentage of central Wisconsin wasn't a happy realization for me, there was nothing else to worry about after it, so overcoming my grief of not finding a job passed quickly.
But, as my previous posts tend to show, I usually only have the motivation to write when something is troubling me, which is why I could never be a professional writer. That point stays true for this post. Alas, something is bothering me. And, like usual, it's an issue of the female variety. But this time I think I dug my own grave, which leaves me with even less comfort than I had in previous times of trouble (which wasn't much I might add).
It all started when Introspect began...actually, it started a little under two weeks ago, very well into the program. We were finally going to start practicing with the dancers after 2 months of practicing separately. This was a big deal, since this was the first time all the parts came together, and Lindsey's work was finally revealed in full. I came into practice thinking I had to make a good impression for all the dancers; I didn't want to seem incompetant. Mostly the band stayed separate from the dancers and vice-versa, which is normal when two groups spend so much time together with only each other. I was no different, straying very little from my bandmates. But one of the dancers challenged my instinct to stay with the familiar group by pressuring me to talk with her and be by her. This was all fine and dandy; I came into this project well prepared for such an event, and I had told myself (and we were constantly reminded) that we were to just be sociable and nothing more. I held to my end of the bargain, and they held to theirs, which was to not hit on the band or impede our progress in any way whatsoever. Well, as the week progressed, I got more comfortable talking with her, and she must have felt the same way with me, because I soon received a friend request from her on facebook. This is all standard for friendly relationships, so nothing to worry about for me. About a week later she got my number and we started texting. Again, completely normal, I text people all the time. But as the show started reeling down to its final days, I started to think about her...about not seeing her every day, about what we had said to each other, etc.
This is the beginning of my downfall -- for after I started to think about it more, I started to realize how much I actually liked her. It wasn't because of the taboo we had been under since the beginning, and it wasn't just looks (I think she is a really pretty girl though). I read back some of her text messages to myself, mostly just the standard, get-to-know-you ones, and I realized that I was actually falling for her as a person. In all honesty, she's the most compatible girl for myself that I've ever had the pleasure of meeting; I feel like I can really be myself around her. After realizing this, I decided to try and play out my role the same way I had before, just to see if there was any returned feelings. And until tonight, I was getting some decently strong vibes, more than average.
But tonight I came to a harsh realization, and I hate myself for it. You see, after I realized I liked her for her, my thoughts were clouded by infatuation. The best way I can explain it was that I was drunk. Not love drunk, I'm better than that, but drunk off my own thoughts. And before this was never a problem, so my body ignored it, choosing pleasure over rationality. Tonight something happened, and I hit reality in free fall at terminal velocity. While we were at Perkins (the entire crew of Introspect went there as a final farewell to everyone we've been getting to know for the past few months), I was sitting by some friends in the band. Then there she was, walking over to our booth. She comes up and looks the guy across from me directly in the eyes and asks for his, and all the other guys at the table's, numbers. This was surprising, but fine, because she already had my number. Later that evening, her and three of her friends were texting these guys very random things pertaining to how they look (all very flattering things, by the way). At the end of the night, they muster up the courage to come to our booth and talk face-to-face with the guys. And as they were talking I sat there, completely ignored, while they all discussed who they thought was hotter and who they wanted to marry. No doubt they were joking, but everybody played along. To recap: for two hours at Perkins, I was surrounded by this awesome girl and her friends, talking to my friends very flirtatiously, while I was left listening and thinking. I was like the seventh wheel on a 6-wheeled truck, just there as a spare in case one of the others blew out. And let me tell you, I've never felt as lonely in my entire life than I did in those moments.
It was at that point that reality hit me, hard and unforgivingly. Yes she acted this way with me weeks before the rest of them (minus the "hot" and the "marriage" stuff), but this was just her personality, and tonight showed me this through crystal-clear glasses. I'm not special. I'm not interesting. I was just the next new face to talk to until the better-looking faces came around. And while her personality is still stunning in my opinion, I can't believe I let myself trip and fall for someone who was merely being nice, courteous. The best way I can describe it is if you meet someone for the first time, and they tell you they like your shoes. Do you think of it as flirtatious, or just small-talk used to get over the awkward introductions? One thing's for sure, I thought of it as the latter at first, but later as the former, and it came back and ate me alive.
So what did I learn from all this? Well, in the future I'm going to be certain that the person I have my eye on has their eye on me too...because too many times in the past I've tried to make lemonade out of nothing more than a packet of sugar, and too many times in the past have I failed. Only Jesus himself can pull that trick off, and I am nothing compared to him. This may make my life a bit more difficult, however. If I build up walls against females in fear that I will get too emotionally involved than they would appreciate, then I will soon find that my life is void of women. The sad truth is, I already am afraid to let them in for that very same reason, unless I get a sliver of hope returned to me from their end. But like I said, too many times in the past has this happened, and too many times have I misjudged that sliver for more than "just friends". This leaves me a very, very lonely man.
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