This essay is about catharsis and is an attempt at the expression of my confusion.
Instead of making this about my bitterness I want to explore how my countless attempts at creating a love interest for myself out of thin air has left me wading in a deceptively dark deep pool of my own undoing. I dedicate this essay to all the other pummeled hearts and all the idiots doing the pummeling because they probably aren’t even aware of their unfortunate disposition.
Sex has always been a secondary concern of mine because I have never shared a sexual encounter with someone I’ve actually been intimate with, as in sharing an actual emotional connection in addition to the sharing of bodily fluids.
Now let the record show I am not discounting the merits of a good old fashioned trip down to pound town. To clarify, I don’t think you have to be emotionally attached to have good sex with a stranger or lover. But numerous encounters with strangers and individuals who ended up being estranged to me has left me more than wanting.
Which brings me to the conundrum of my quest for intimacy and those individuals I have pursued in this quest. I guess in my mind, I always think that I’ll find someone enchanted enough by me to pull a Lloyd Dobler and show up outside my window with a boom box and a trench coat. In reality, it is I standing outside with a boom box playing my favorite song hoping in turn that they will declare their love for me. That they know that song too and they get it, they get me.
My latest misstep began as a playful crush and has inadvertently played itself out as some discarded soap opera storyline in which I’ve written my would be lover off the show with no resolution. I mean I legitimately have no explanation for what has occurred between us. Maybe he does…
Dear Would Be Lover,
I feel like everything was different before like I had this life that was separate from my ordinary day to day but then there was my time spent with you. With you the world just made perfect sense in ways that weren’t so obvious before. When we were apart and something happened and you weren’t there to laugh at the joke or enjoy the irony or my cleverness something felt off.
Being with you was too easy. I don’t know when it started making sense that I prefer doing everything with you and that everyone else was boring. Probably about the same time you wanted me to choose you before anyone else, that you were the only person worthy of my attention.
This other life, the one where we are awesome together, was converging with my reality. I guess that was the goal for me anyway. I felt like we kept crossing paths and that somehow I would fit the two together the way we fit together. I mean if you meet someone and when you are together everything just falls into place, why would you wanna be apart?
I make you laugh and that makes me smile. I guess that’s why I kept building this up in mind the way one does when there is something to look forward to. I began to only look forward to seeing you. I guess that was my first mistake. Seems I was giving you something you weren’t asking for but I didn’t know what else to do. My head was spinning between all the mixed signals and the attention from you I couldn’t get enough of.
I didn’t want to stop. I was slowly giving myself up to our lost cause. Now there were reasons I started with said pining in my defense.
Why did you think it was okay to sing me to sleep? I mean singing me to sleep is romantic, a late night serenade. You serenade someone when you want them to fall in love with you. Right?
I mean if you are wooing me and you don’t want me to be wooed I don’t think you should be singing to me. I’m not making fun of you. I love it when you sing to me. I wish you sang to me every night.
I should take more responsibility for our demise. And unfortunately now you remind me of an embarrassment, a lapse in judgement, I’ve made numerous times and come out none the wiser.
We made plans before and I used to look forward to our adventures but now I wish they would just come and go if they don’t involve some amicable reunion, something we have managed countless times before.
So I have to gather myself in hope that one day I might get it together. Today is not that day and I remind myself that perhaps this wasn’t the right time or that you weren’t the would be lover I was waiting for. I also consider that I could be completely deluded.
This playlist reminds me of us and also that “us” is no longer some idea we share together because now that is all over. It’s a brief selection of songs that serve as a reminder of how much I liked our mess and also that I’m perfectly fine without you to complicate my life. Especially since I enjoy complications so much more than I should.
The I Don’t Need This Shit Playlist
Track 1: Some Things Never Seem To Fucking Work – Solange Knowles
Track 2: Recover – Chvrches
Track 3: Forrest Gump – Frank Ocean
Track 4: (One of Those) Crazy Girls – Paramore
Track 5: Mirrors – Justin Timberlake
I offer up the these songs although I can name a dozen more that I have convinced myself are either about me or my feelings. They are about all the adverse and positive effects of making yourself vulnerable to someone. Especially if those feelings are not reciprocated, or kind of reciprocated but not really, or just enough to make you think otherwise and maybe act crazy.
Like how I feel when you sing to me and I like it so much it makes me nauseous or enough to stand outside your window with a boom box declaring to the world my devotion to you, just plain crazy. I guess you can kind of pick up that I’m still confused and probably will be for just a bit longer.
For now, I’ll prefer the heartbreak songs to the happily ever after songs and nurse my wounds. I still sympathize with the suffering but I’m not condoning the pummeling of hearts for anyone’s entertainment, it’s just nice to have some company.