I do not have an STD

I have been meaning to share this crazy story of mine for a few weeks now.

Some of you that see me regularly know this story, so I apologize for the redundancy. I thought I should document just a piece of the ridiculousness that is my life:

Most of you that know me know that I have the sense of humor of a 12-year old boy. As the Chinese fortune cookie said to me once, "As one knows less and less about life, one learns to live it more and more." I can say similar things about my sense of humor. It has degenerated to the lowest forms of humor, most of which 12-year old boys find funny along with other degenerates like me. This has come into stark contrast with my search for adulthood and maturity. Oh well...

With that being said, my favorite vein of jokes recently has been pertaining to STDs. I know some of you are squinting your eyes and making a face thinking, "STD's are no laughing matter." You have a point. And when someone chose my joke as an opportunity google photos of STDs, I saw the light. However, for 2015, this has been my go-to joke for just about any situation. There might have even been several of those jokes said at work and church and at the doctor's office.

I digress...

Several weeks ago, I was at a concert festival with some friends. We were getting a steady bombardment of gentleman giving us attention. One in particular was a youngin'. Way too young for me. Still, he confidently walked right up to me and started grabbing my butt while talking to our group. I was a little shocked by his aggressive nature. I gave him a look and asked him how old he was. He said it was his 21st birthday. A milestone. To celebrate, I reached into my boot and pulled out one of the shots I snuck in and jammed it in his hand.

Then I looked at him and told him I had Aids. Straight-faced. Aids. Sad to say, I was saying that to randos all night. My friend kept telling me that was a totally inappropriate joke to say to strangers, and everyone else too. I laughed it off and thought anyone who took me seriously had to be crazy. (It's not me. It's them.) I just didn't know a nice way of saying that I wasn't interested. I said the first thing that popped into my mind. Who can blame me? (I can't)

Let's switch gears

So earlier this year, I dated a guy for about a month or so. After about a month of seeing him, he began to pressure me to pursue a more physical relationship. Due to timing and interest level, I held off. I had just returned from being out of town and had to work in Denver the day I returned to work. That day, he summoned me and requested that I sleep over at his house. Because it was a Tuesday night and I wouldn't be ending my work day until late, I told him I couldn't do it. He then suggested moving the sleepover to my house.

My house was an absolute disaster from the whirlwhind of traveling. I said 'no' again. He immediately texted me back and said, "We should not see each other anymore." I sent him a frowny(frownie?) face and moved on. I didn't put a lot of brain power into why. Se la vie.

So several months later, I find myself at a bar with some friends when I spot him. (His nickname was Vince Vaughn) I approach him and say hi. Nothing wrong with that. 

After chatting for several minutes he looks at me and says, "You know why I broke up with you?"
"You made so many herpes jokes, then wouldn't hook up with me; I was convinced you had herpes."

It was truly one of those moments that my life flashed before my eyes. I remembered all the STD jokes I made on first dates, all of the jokes I passively made around friends, siblings, bosses, coworkers, doctors, psychiatrists... And then it all became clear to me.

This is why I'm single. 

He just doesn't love me

There is a common thought that has been running through my mind lately. I guess the thought really hit me late last year, but I guess I subconsiously knew that I needed to revisit the idea.

Last year I was in Cancun for my friend's wedding. I used the time away to reflect on a wide variety of relationships in my life. At that time, life had become so busy that I had not taken the time to process my heart breaks from the year. Unfortunately, I have to say "heart breaks"...plural. Not just from my dating life but from a variety of relationships within my family, friendships, and a couple of romantic relationships/

As I began to reflect, I realized that I kept going back to the same people, chasing after them in hopes that they would one day figure out that they loved me. 

And it hit me, painfully. They don't love me. I replayed that over and over in my head. I wasn't trying to convince myself. I just needed it to sink in. It was such a simple truth, but one I had not considered.

Yes relationships can be complicated. But at the end of the day if that person isn't who you need them to be, they probably never will be. If they don't love you by now, they probably never will. And there is no amount of nice words, fun times, or pursuing that will ever change that fact. 

Right then and there I realized I needed to move on. It wasn't sad. It was empowering. Truth is always empowering. When I let go of that hope, I could move on with my life and place my energy in to pursuing better things, things and relationships that would give back to me what I gave them. It seemed like a strange paradox to say that giving up hope actually made me more hopeful. But I had placed my hope in the past things, when my future is where I needed to focus.

Now here I am 9 months later needing, again, to realize that I have allowed certain people to hold my attention and take my energy. But the simple truth is they do not give a shit about me. It's as true as it has ever been. They just don't love me. I love them. They don't love me. They are just using me like a toy for entertainment and validation. They are using me at my expense because I let them. Because I hoped that if they use me enough, they will fall in love. Does that logic make any sense?

I remember when I was a teenager I would borrow my sister's clothes constantly. She hated it because I would just leave her clothes laying around or sprawled all over her bed after each wear. I definitely didn't treat her clothes as well as my own. And now I'm the one being left laying around after each use to be forgotten and only remembered when they have nothing else to preoccupy their minds.

Again, I feel empowered by letting go of hope. Because I know I am doing the right thing for myself. 

Yes, you.

I'm going to say this once and only once just to you and only you:

We are right for each other. We are the most perfect of anyone and anything I've known. I didn't know it in the first moment I met you. There were a lot of distractions. I felt it for a second when we were sitting in the drive thru and then again eating fried chicken in the kitchen. I felt it in the moment that you threw my dog across the room in the middle of the night.

You're not right in the way that most people are right. You're not overtly wonderful. You're not flashy. But you're not not any of those things either. You're subtle. You're non-judgmental. You're strangely deep.

I knew from the moment I met you that I could be crazy, and too much, and overwhelming and the center of all attention, and I could still be yours. You could deal with me and call it beautiful. I knew in that first moment. 

I knew you were complicated and simple all at the same time. I knew you were incredibly smart and astonishingly dumb. You're cocky and humble. Rich and poor. Light and dark. I knew you were.... and I was too....all at the same time. 

But here we are. I'm here, and you're there. Right does not come easy to you. That's part of your beauty.

But none of it changes the fact that you were made to make me smile, carry my dreams, keep my body warm.