Last night when I came home I was so sad I had to take 4 happiness capsules (Sex and the City episodes) non stop to stop me from swallowing a full tube of toothpaste to kill myself. I had been rejected. By a guy.
As proud as I am, I had to be very sure that he liked me, otherwise I wouldn’t have risked myself to the shame of rejection. Maybe it’s not a shame, after all it’s part of the pick up game and we should be prepared for it and be good loosers when it happens. But I can’t get over it, my insecurities won’t let me, I suddenly feel I’m too ugly, too something, too bad to go out thinking somebody will be interested in me, how could someone?, and I just feel like never going out again.
With this guy I had been having this game for weeks, as we go almost every saturday to the same place, we would look at each other, we would move to be closer blah blah but we’d never make the move, until last night that I was hammer enough to silence my fears, step down of my thrown and make the first move. I went to him all cute with my half smile, my black and white outfit and my security that he’d respond interested, and I put my Kylie Minogue hand in his shoulder to grab his attention. I had to do it twice because apparently he was too busy asking for a light. A week before I had added him on MSN (here in Spain that’s the IM we all use), cause a guy had given me his adress by mistake and I saw the opportunity to finally talk to the guy I had been flirting with without the tension of the in person, but he never added me back. So when my Kylie Minogue hand finally made him turn fucking around I asked him about that, and blah blah music loud noise he said he doesn’t add an adress he doesn’t know. For real? What are you a celebrity? Anyway, I said ‘uhm’, he said sort of ‘I’m sorry?’, I left the place, I run humiliated a few blocks, and that’s my story. That’s a saturday for me.
What I see in the guy? Well he’s the slutiest guy in the city, he hooks up with the first fetus that comes along, he hooks up with the first turd that comes along, he hooks up with the first douche that comes along. That’s him in a nutshell. But, he’s like cute, he has that American teenager charm, I don’t know, he fits my rocky likes somehow, and the fact that he’s such a whore made it worse because it made me feel like what kind of troll must I be then?
I know I know, but I can’t help it. My insecurities.
Love is all around. Love is all around me. I’ve never been in love, I’ve never been loved, I sometimes feel dry like a stone. Maybe I should turn into a slut myself.
My friend J. says there are 5 hot guys in the city and we’re all the poor candidates that dream of getting laid, that we should go to the gym and join the hot ones once and for all and stop complaining. Tonight I was at McDonald’s (I’ve been eating fast food for over a week as I’ve lost my will to cook) and I was checking a bunch of guys out but only one was kinda cute. I thought how cruel is beauty? I thought we should be souls, like colorful circles of light and then we touch and see if we’re compatible. Maybe I should stop promoting beauty and turn this blog into yet another gadgets blog, no?