April, 10 2009

The girls never made me happy. Somewhere along the line I realize that it was my job to make me happy. After a particularly heart-breaking separation from a girl named Robin, I moved again. This time I ran away to Texas and swore off women for a year. The time wasn’t that important to me, but the idea behind it meant everything. Who can truly love someone who doesn’t love themselves? For that matter, how can someone who can’t even love themselves love someone else? Learning to be single and happy wasn’t hard. Family and friends became much more important. My young nieces finally got to know their uncle.

In order to fulfill my one year hiatus from women I had to adjust I interacted socially. My friends growing up had always been women. That’s the last thing I wanted now. I somehow ended up with a group of guys that especially loved fast cars, women and verbally bashing one another for comedic and stress relief. (The same type of guys that called me gay in high school) I picked up an edge, sarcastic streak, new piercings and a fast car; all to fit in. The guys thought a relationship involved a girl that didn’t understand that she need not reply after one night. I had no problem avoiding women with their inability to keep one around. I watched them and how they were able to get some of the most intelligent and beautiful women by being complete jerk. I could do that. Green day said it best; “Nice guys finish last.” I didn’t want to be a nice guy anymore. I pretended that I wasn’t the nice guy, it was only for pretend though, but after awhile I got comfortable with my new persona and became him.

I wasn’t in high school anymore but the group I was hanging out with acted like they were; so did I. Not only did we make fun of each other, we made fun of anyone we could. We did stupid and mean things just to do them and laugh. We drove between Fort Worth and Dallas with 10 cars, blocking all the lanes and went 20 mph and watched the sirens and birdies flashing behind us. I could feel my life starting to fall apart. I knew I was getting out of control. I started dating and calmed down some. Found myself dating a girl because she reminded me of Robin, guess a year wasn’t enough to get over that one. I even went as far as to get engaged again at age 21 for the second time. Six months later her (clinically) manic depressive pi-polar disorder ended our relationship for us. Shortly thereafter I found my Del Sol destroyed in the parking lot of my work. I refused to get back together with her earlier that morning. There are some roller coasters you only ride once.

I ran away again and became a student at the University of Idaho. I started all over without my fast car, my tongue and ear piercings healed. Without a second thought I changed almost everything back, but I kept my newfound arrogant personality. I thought I should be held more than a peg above everyone else. I couldn’t handle a relationship and any decision I made gave me a new regret, but I was a good, hard worker that rarely broke the law, didn’t drink much (1 or 2 times a month, drunk only twice). I thought I was smart and athletic on top of it. Who was I kidding?