Romance. What. The. Hell.
As a teen, I would always pride myself on my relationships. I was charming, romantic, and completely head over heels for those who I adored. However, being such a Casanova wasn’t always my forte. Prior to my first major relationship in high school, I had never really had much experience dating. Sure, I would ask girls out, but a polite yet stern rejection was pretty standard, with the exception of one girl who bluntly told me “no” repeatedly. (twelve years later and I think I’m finally starting to wear her down) After receiving a few jabs from my friends at my expense, I remember specifically telling them “You wait, I’m going to get a girl to go out with me and I’ll never be single again.” It was quite a claim coming from a nerdy stoner who had barely the gull to talk to females, let alone ask them on dates. Wouldn’t you know a few months later I tricked one in to saying yes and we dated for the next two years.
The following twelve years brought on many new relationships, all which would come and go, sometimes for a few months, and sometimes for the better part of a decade. In between each one, I was never single for more than two weeks. There was even a failed marriage in there somewhere. (sighs) Now, here I am, single for the past six months, and losing my mind. It’s been so long since I’ve played this whole “casual dating” game. I’m not meant for this. I was made for long-term relationships.
Eh, I wanted to write more but I’m getting angry, I’m going for a drink.