Girls Are Weird!

Another post about girls, trust me, there will be more. I’m not ranting so much this time, more just observing some bizarre, sometimes annoying, sometimes just strange facts. The first of these is that every good girl it seems is already taken. Obviously, right? But by good girl, I mean not only the kind of girl that I would like to have, but the kind of girl who would like me back. All those girls are either engaged or pregnant or else otherwise occupied with some other guy who may or may not be deserving of her in the first place. And that’s another thing, these girls, it seems, NEVER BREAK UP with their boyfriends/fiances/husbands. Even if said bf/fiance/husband cheats on her or if the relationship is just kind of meh or if they’re fighting or what-have-you. And I’m like whhhyyyy? If you would just break up with that guy then we could be together, dammit! But, obviously, it’s not that simple, and I know that. Just annoying.
Here’s another strange thing, the girls who do like me have odd ways of showing it. Like, flirting with other guys or pretending that they don’t like me. So how do I know they like me? ‘Cause they tell me AFTER they’ve found someone else -.- They don’t even give me a chance! And it doesn’t make sense, it’s like why didn’t you choose me over that other guy in the first place? Well, I know why, it’s ’cause I’m not as good-looking probably, and then they end up breaking up with the other guy and then they’re heart-broken and they find another attractive guy and the cycle goes on, like a crazy, addicted drunk. Basically, they just like me the whole time but don’t do anything about it. Must be my scary, “dark presence” and attitude or something, eh?
Anyway. Then there’s just the fact that I like a couple girls right now, but the depressing thing is I don’t have a shot at either of them. One of them I’m just kinda hoping likes me (well, both of them actually) even though she’s drop-dead gorgeous and the other one is not currently available. I also know when I like people very quickly, and girls have this thing where they have to know you for at least a year before they’ll consider dating you… at least that’s what I’ve heard from the ones I’ve known, that can’t always be true… point is, I haven’t known these girls very long at all. *Sigh*. What to do? You’d think I would be able to woo a fair maiden with my incredible piano skills and my charming-if-not-altogether-sane attitude, but noooo. No, they are all crazy.

Girls are weird!

Me Part 5: The End

This is the end of this particular series on my life, i.e. the one based around Fred and Sarah. I like to think of my life as having different stories in it, but all of those stories are part of one bigger story. The conclusion to this story is a sad one.
Sarah and I broke up, necessarily, and I was broken. Very broken. I remember going into a rage that night, tearing at myself, throwing things against the wall, I don’t remember ever losing control as much as I did then in my life. It took me 3 months to get over her enough to start doing stable things again… get up… go to school… come back… go to sleep… friends on the weekends… repeat… repeat… and that’s how my life has felt since she left. Monotonous. Pointless. And that’s just me, I don’t blame it on Sarah. I blame it on the world and on life and on whoever created this system, whether it be God or some other being or just a chance operation.
Why are we here, really? Why do we even ask that question? Surely we wouldn’t wonder if there wasn’t a purpose, would we? Can humans be so flawed that they would question their purpose on earth or the existence of total death or absolute zero or infinity or time if in fact there was none? I believe our purpose here is to suffer. I see no other possible reason for our being here. The one universal amongst human beings is suffering. We don’t all love, much as we’d like to think that. None of us truly has happiness governing our lives. No one, however much they may like to believe it, is truly at peace. We all experience suffering, and suffering and time rule the universe together with iron fists. The purpose of the suffering? I cannot yet say. We will have to wait for death to truly understand.

Me Part 4: Misery

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that we are all very much alone. There’s some comfort to be taken in that. Knowing that you are in control of your fate (hopefully) and that technically your actions and feelings are something you control yourself is comforting in a way. At the same time though, loneliness is completely miserable. Loneliness has bred sociopaths, killers, liars, cheaters, and philosophers since human life began, and in my case, it brought back something I’d hoped never to see again…
It started out with Sarah’s pregnancy and our engagement. I tried so hard to convince myself that this was something I could handle and that I would never leave her. So many pregnancies lead to break-ups, but I loved this girl enough to stick by her side through the whole thing, I was sure of it. Consciously, I was right. Sub-consciously, I was fooling myself from the beginning. Things just began to slip. I would get angry for no reason, she would throw insults at me out of the blue, suddenly that honeymoon phase was over because we had to be responsible parents. I remember every “good time” we had after learning that she was pregnant was always shrouded over by the darkness of a previous argument, or the knowledge that one was soon to come. It was miserable. I still loved her, but I started to hate her at the same time.
It’s so difficult to describe the dynamics of a relationship like this. The best I can do is to compare Sarah’s pregnancy to marriage, it was like a label telling us that the fun and games were over. But I was 18, and she a year younger, and we weren’t prepared for that. It resulted in some of the worst and most depressing fights I’ve ever been in before. I don’t know how we lasted so long. The real clincher though was after the baby was born. Seeing her face when little Rebecca was put in her arms, knowing that our relationship was over. And there was Fred, again. At the worst possible moment he decided to show up and I lost control. I ran out of that room, tears streaming down my face. I ran and I ran until I couldn’t run anymore and then I just kept walking, trying to get as lost as I possibly could and as far from that baby and that girl as I was able. And then I just sat down, my head in my arms, for what seemed like an eternity before Sarah’s parents found me and brought me back to their home.
Life, for me, became dream-like. I felt numb. I didn’t feel like a dad, I felt like a failure. My father had practically disowned me, and my mother (bless her heart) was disappointed beyond what I thought I could bear. I was disappointed in myself. Fred was constantly tormenting me, having the time of his life because he’d known all along it would never last. He was right. He’s always right. Loneliness would always rule my life from that point on, and there was nothing I could do about it.
The day Sarah and I broke up, I think a little piece of me died. I haven’t ever been able to get it back.