Category: Unrequited Love


He goes by many names in my internet ramblings – The Mohawk Man, My Future Boyfriend, My Husband Who Doesn’t Know It Yet.

 

I’m not going to rehash all my I want him stories, but basically I’ve seen him in my job quite often. He’s gorgeous and I want him. From my station behind the deli counter, I can see what he buys…. strawberry instant oatmeal, skim milk, bottled water, etc. He likes to use the self check out lines. At one point I started obnoxiously saying hello to him, because he literally runs through the store and it’s impossible to start a convo or talk to him. At least by screaming “HIIII” he’d look in my direction, granted he thought I was retarded.

 

So don’t ask me why when opportunity punched me in the twat, I bent over and let it kick me in the ass as well.

 

I was coming back from lunch, and walking by the registers. It was fairly empty, and for the first time in nearly three years, there was The Mohawk Man, on the self check out line, with no one else around. No one to cock block me. No one to make me feel embarrassed for trying to hit on him…  nobody around. And he was just…. standing there… checking out.

 

So feeling sassy, I went right up to him, and when he turned his head, I boldly asked, “Excuse me, what’s your name?”

 

I didn’t quite catch what he said. “Jeff?” i said.

“No, Kevin.”

 

“OH, Kevin. Nevermind then.” And I walked away. WHAT THE HELL. Why did I do that????? I had the perfect opportunity to talk to him, introduce myself, at least proclaim my undying love for him. And i said NEVERMIND????  WHEN THE FUCK DID I HAVE A LOBOTOMY???

 

Ugh. Life only gives you so many chances. And I’ve blown them all.

I miss the coyness of dating, the way you’d tell someone you like them without “sexting”, or any other means of fucking around before any actual intimacy. The subtle gestures, stolen glances, and lower lip biting in anticipation of even speaking to that particular person. You know, the want.

Those days are long gone, and it makes me tremendously put off.

Recently I started seeing a guy. He was so sweet, and so refreshingly unlike any other guy I’ve ever really met. Funny, charming, alarmingly cutesy with me. Pretty much perfection.
After a few weeks, I decided to sleep with him. Being the adult I am, I figured I didn’t have to play by any “rules” and wait for him to contact me. So, i did.
I was met with answers to questions i hadn’t even thought to ask, let alone verbally ask him what he responded with.

Another week has gone by. No word on his account.
It goes to show just because one of them doesn’t act like the rest of them, that they wont eventually be.
It sucks too. This one could have been different.

Also, I met him via okcupid. So if you’re keeping count, let me know what number I’m up to. Eventually I’ll hit a number that makes me move onto another dating site.

Tall guys like short girls.
Short guys like tall girls.
Tall girls like tall guys.

And no one cares what short girls like because they always get the tall ones I want.

In short, I am irrationally angry at one in the morning. Frustrated by my social life, and most importantly my “love” life. Ha.
I’m not one of those typical girls who’s entire life’s goal is to “find” a man, and just revolve around him. No. My life’s goals lie elsewhere, which is why I normally leave my love life to the universe and any actual fate there might be. So when the actual universe delivered me a man I was actually so into, I was all in.
I met a man, a ridiculously amazing man. On okcupid. Shock #1.
This man is an insufferable asshole. Shock #2.
We talked, we met, we ultimately did the deed. We’ve dated.
The dates have stopped.
This is where I’m irrationally angry.
I have put myself “out” there, asked him out plenty of times (which I never do), and haven’t been met at all half way.

I’ve resigned my enormous, and I mean enormous crush on him. I’ve deleted him and every little adorable bit of proof of his existence. I hate that I like him. I hate that I haven’t seen him, and I particularly hate that I can’t fantasize about Eric Northman without thinking of his delectable height, which in turn makes me think about Crush’s height. Which is why I’m frustrated beyond belief at 1 in the morning.

I even punched my pillow because in my dreams I can have Eric Northman, but in reality I can’t attain my crush. Or at least he doesn’t like me as much as I like him.

__________________________Tall Ones

I was out recently and saw a cute guy. This cute guy was definitely beyond the 5’9″ height. This guy was accompanied by a girl who’s tan was as fake as her Chanel bag. I realize as a feminist I shouldn’t snark on other women, and be all glad that “we” are out there, getting the guys. But as a woman, I’m irked. I somehow find these guys who are shorter, always shorter than me. And the tall ones? They’re so out of reach.
Excuse me for sounding bitter, but after this last bout with my fledgling love life, it has started to take a toll.

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