Over the past year and a half, I've have two boyfriends, two almost boyfriends, and several guys like me. Now, you might be wondering why on Earth none of these relationships worked out, right? I mean, how could a charming, sarcastic, cynical, enthusiastic, funny person like me be completely able to hold a lasting relationship with a guy?
I blame Disney.
No, really. I do.
I was the kid who watched all of the Disney classics and could quote the vast majority of them by the age of six. I believe
But, from a very young age, I got it into my head that I had to have this perfect guy, this total Prince Charming, who was going to sweep me off my feet, and we'd be madly in love and get married and so would end that story.
I'm finding life isn't nearly that gracious, nor is it that simple.
Unfortunately, I have a habit of pointing out the flaws in others. Sometimes, it's a blessing; other times, well, it isn't.
For example, my first boyfriend, whom we shall "C-Bear" (because that's what I still occasionally call him), well, it was all very immature. We held hands in the hall, went to the school play together, called each other... But that was about it. We lasted a month, unless you choose to disregard the week that I started ignoring him. So three weeks, basically, if you wish to be technical. We just ran out of things to talk about. And, you know, I realized that I didn't really like him all that much.
And then there was this summer: his name was Alex. We met at Youth Group, through a mutual friend. I liked him from the get-go. It took him a bit longer. Try a month and a half. I was so fed up with his failure to ask me out earlier that I almost said no. But, okay, fine, he showed up at my house and asked me out on a date. He even asked my dad's permission. You'd think I would've fallen for him right then and there... Unfortunately, we don't go to the same school, we never talked, I started avoiding him, and BAM! The relationship was over before it began, really.
Let's not forget about the second latest "love of my life". He doesn't even deserve to be named. I'm not even sure how to begin. It went a little something like this: boy meets girl; boy has girlfriend; girl likes boy, regardless; boy breaks up with girlfriend; boy kisses girl; girl decides she's crazy about him; girl runs out of free time; girl realizes she doesn't really care for him as much as she thought she did. Ta-da. The relationship didn't even get a chance to start before I was bored of him.
And, finally, we really can't forget the most complicated almost-relationship I've ever had. His name is, well, I guess we'll call him "Kyle" (which, for the record, is not his actual age). I met him while I was dating "C-Bear". Haha. We literally met on Facebook. Granted, it's not as creepy as it sounds because he goes to my school, is in drama, and has first period in the same hall as I do. In short, we've both liked each other on and off for about a year. And, for the kicker, he's had a girlfriend for the past ten months. Oh, fabulous, right? For the better portion of about four months, we had a "thing" over text. Yeah. I know. Ridiculous. And pathetic. But we both needed attention. It just happened. And then, about a week ago, he called it quits, but we're still friends. Yet, a week later, his girlfriend somehow finds out and she's my friend, so I've got to go about apologizing profusely, because I was selfish and yada-yada-yada. She forgives me. Not sure how that happened. And as much as I liked him, I'm really glad I didn't break them up. Because she really cares about him. And he and I would have too many issues, anyhow.
Those are really all the major relationships I've had in my sixteen years of life. Quite a short list, I know.
But, looking back, I realized that each time, I expected the guy to be something he wasn't. And you know what that was? I expected him to be a Prince Charming.
This is reality.
There's not going to be any guy to sweep me off my feet, shower me with kisses and affection, call me when I'm sad, hug me when I'm angry, laugh at my stupid jokes, not get offended by some offhanded sarcastic remark I make under my breath...
I'm probably never going to find myself a decent guy who isn't a total creepy perv who just likes me for my chest, but for my personality.
And I'll be forever blind to the great guy in front of me because I'm too busy drooling over the latest Hollywood heartthrob.
But my inner six-year-old says otherwise. She believes that I will find the perfect guy someday. And, being a hopeless romantic, I have no choice but to believe her.
Blog post ends here.