I met a boy I really liked who made me
laugh. With my teeth. The humorous tone of our dynamic turned quite serious and
a little romantic. Two hours later we decided to meet the following night. That
was last week. And he rejected me.
After a bout of depression and a lot of
analysis, I decided to hate him. Concluding that it is his loss…and all other
cliché statements women make…but these statements have become worn out and
futile, and I found myself at back to normal. And normal for me always means
depressed.
Laura and I decided to call him again to
find out what happened. He said I was too intense. That when he was sitting
with me at the bar he felt in the center of chaos. It’s probably the best rejection
I’ve ever gotten. I actually found someone I’m literally incompatible with. As
if we’re different species. I mean, there would be no way to have worked around
it. I can’t say I did anything wrong. Had I been calm and collected that night
at the bar, the intensity would inevitable creep out. This is fabulous news.
I’m helpless in this. This guy has no idea the favor he did for me in revealing
my ability to be free of controlling tendencies and what it’s like to be
incompatible with someone.