Before we get into this post, it’s important to note that I wrote this way back around the beginning of May. I wrote it because it was therapeutic. I didn’t immediately post it because I didn’t necessarily want the person who winds up being the subject of this post (even though there are no names used) to read it and get offended. However, being nearly three months removed from the events that spawned this post, I’ve decided I don’t care enough to walk on eggshells about this crap.

Well… it happened again.

I managed to have my heart slightly broken.

Look, I wasn’t gonna write a blog post about this. Because who wants to read the mildly depressing ramblings of a guy who’s in the middle of a pity party?

I’ve actually been back and forth on this for most of the day. Write something… don’t write something… So why did I land on writing something? Because I’ve got half an hour to kill and I’m sitting here alone with my thoughts. So you get to read them.

Or don’t. You don’t have to read my thoughts. No one is forcing you to keep scrolling down. But if you’re still here, just know what you’re getting yourself into.

Throughout my life, I’ve come to have certain unwavering opinions: Coke is always superior to Pepsi. Superman is the greatest of all super heroes. Back to the Future is the greatest film to ever be shown in the big screen.

What I do waver on is my desire to be in a relationship/get married/have kids… I really do go back and forth on whether or not I want these things.

Sometimes, I’ll look at what friends who are married have and I think, that would be swell. The challenges, the excitement, the fun of having someone to talk to and do stuff with at pretty much any given moment. At other times, I’ll look at friends who have dealt with the heartache and pain of divorce and I’ll think, nope… I’m doing all right by myself, thank you.

A couple years ago, I looked around myself at my situation and the town in which I live and I decided, I think I’m okay in the knowledge that I’m never gonna get married and I’m never gonna have kids. I’m gonna die alone. But that’s okay. If that’s the path that God has laid out for me, then I’m fine with it.

And then, recently, a girl came along. Look… It’s not as if this woman crossed my path and went crazy with desire. I wasn’t looking for her. I didn’t even know I was interested in her. But then I started hearing, through mutual acquaintances, that she was interested.

So we started talking. A lot. Well… a lot for me. I’m not much of a talker. When I have a text conversation with someone that goes back and forth for half an hour, that’s me talking a lot. And that kind of thing was happening just about every day. So I figured I’d ask her out. So we went out. And it seemed to go great.

Then, a week later, in the midst of my attempt at asking for a second date, she downshifted into the friendzone. Honestly, I didn’t see that coming.

I should have seen it coming, though. Because it’s all that’s ever come for me in the past. I never like to put forth a lot of effort when it comes to wooing the opposite sex. Because the second I decide to put forth any effort whatsoever, I’m given that bitter pill to swallow. I like to wash it down with a good glass of “let’s be friends.”

Don’t worry, because it’s not about me. It’s not anything that I did.

You’d think that hearing that would be comforting. No… I didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing wrong with me. But when you hear that from a lot of different women after a lot of first dates over the years, it gets harder and harder to believe.

Because what if it is me?

Don’t get me wrong… My self esteem is basically intact. I’m happy with the person I am. But what if there is just something inherently repellent about me or my personality? Am I not attractive enough? I know I’m overweight… So is it because I’m too fat? Is my sense of humor too weird? Am I just too awkward in social situations? Is it because I dripped mayonnaise from my sandwich on my shirt?

It’s just so confusing. But it’s okay. Well, it will be. Next week I’ll be back to my normal self. My usual, emotionally numb, “I’m gonna die alone” but-I’m-okay-with-it self.

Update: In the months since writing this, I have basically returned to my usual, emotionally numb self. I’ve also come to realize that what happened hurt me more than I was willing to admit at the time. If I’m honest, it probably still affects me. Allow me to explain why…

When I attempted to ask this woman out for a second date and received the friends speech, I foolishly believed that she actually wanted to remain friends. For some time thereafter, I continued attempting to reach out to her. I initiated text conversations. I tried to get together with her on multiple occasions… not for dates, but just to hang out. You know, like friends do. Each time, something either came up or there was a flimsy excuse that was readily available. After about three weeks of this and coming to realization that every conversation we’d had since the friends speech was initiated by me, I quit. I stopped texting. And you know what? I haven’t heard from her since.

So, I’m not just my usual, emotionally numb self. I’m also pessimistic to the point where if I ever hear a woman tell me that she just wants to be friends, I’m going to assume that’s a load of crap.