On one hand, being single feels great.
Sure it’s all I’ve known my whole life, but doing things at my own pace is so freeing and I feel like I get a lot more done.
On the other hand, I do want to be in a relationship with someone. But the internal struggle here is finding someone who I will not tire of and who won’t make me lose my (short) patience, someone who will make me a better person.
A friend winged me real good the other night.
She drunkenly announced at the bar, “I’m gonna wing you tonight” and I told her I thought the girl in the jean vest was cute. This dummy goes up to her and dances with her. Then she keeps signalling me over to dance with her. After much hesitation I did, and we ended up talking a little. I asked my friend what she said to her, and apparently she’d said “my friend thinks you’re cute”, and she was into it. At one point, I volunteered as tribute to a four-person competition which involved popping balloons with our bodies. Unfortunately jean-vest girl didn’t go up for it, but on the bright side, I ended up winning three free drinks and two tickets to an Idina Menzel concert.
She left fairly early, at about 1am, but when she did, she came to say bye. So I said “One of the biggest regrets in life is not getting a cute girl’s number.” And I whipped out my phone.
I’m two for two with that pickup line.
But I’m more cautious than ever with getting emotionally invested. If I’ve learned anything these past few months, it’s that people come and go – whether as friends are as potential partners.
But I’m making moves. We’ll see where it goes.
I went on a godawful tinder date. She kept trying to complete my sentences and she would not stop talking about herself.
She didn’t look anything like her profile pictures either.
It was intensely irritating when she went on and on about qwoc representation in media. A side of me wonders if it’s because I’m Asian, that she can win points by appearing to be an ally and ranting about how Scarlett Johanssen should not have been cast in Ghost in the Shell. Well, it’s one thing to be an ally but quite another to run your mouth about how “this might be a controversial thing to say, but I think we need more black artists like Beyoncé”.
Just shut up. Please.
The day after, she was supposed to stay til 6pm but lord have mercy, I wouldn’t have survived. I resorted to making up an elaborate story about my brother getting into a fight with my mom and needing to go see him. Even after then, she thought I’d let her stay at my apartment unsupervised. …FFS.
Woof. What a nightmare.
I just texted a girl from Tinder from a month ago (whom I’d stopped texting with) to tell her about it. We really hit it off the first time we texted back and forth but stopped after she went to go visit her brother in Welland. I never followed up and neither did she… But we’re picking it right back up. It’s odd but I like how loosely we’re taking it.
I feel so much more free since ending things with Tinder Nightmare (sorry, too tired to be a considerate human). The weightlessness is giving me the energy to meet new queers and I feel I’ve been doing so (even on the Friday before meeting her. I made out with a cute chick at a queer bar). Specifically, it’s the absence of a ‘potential crush’ that’s fueling the enthusiasm.
On a self-reflective note…
I’ve been preoccupied lately with the issue of me perhaps talking about myself too much.
I’ve long prided myself on being a great listener…so I’m terrified of entertaining this idea that perhaps I’m not /or I no longer am. J, C, and a lot of other gays are great at asking questions and I’m starting to compare myself (naturally) and I’m wondering if I don’t.
Being a good listener makes people more likable – this is known. Women are less assertive about their accomplishments and interests, generally speaking, than men. So although I’m naturally quiet and a person of few words, my conscious effort over these past few years to be louder, more articulate, and more purposeful with what I have to say might be drowning out my “introverted” side.
I’m worse at this in social settings than at the office. I’m a great listener towards my coworkers, but less so with my friends. One of my New Years Resolutions is to ask better and more questions of my friends when engaging in conversation – I’ve noticed I’m usually the one talking, and quite often it’s about my ideas or myself. (This is the opposite for me in the office.)
Then again all these are just my opinions of myself and could be totally wrong.
I broke my eight-month streak of not crying on Saturday night.
And I laughed it off as it was happening, because all I could think was “Of course. Of course it would be over this.”
I’m scrolling through my old blogposts to see if I had perversely written out that I had predicted my bond with C wouldn’t last. We are the same but too different.
As much as I welcome dialogue (and I feel I’ve been making good with that for the past year and a bit), it’s a two-way street that involves listening and talking from both parties. There was no dialogue these past two nights; only attacking and defending.
Let me explain.
On Friday night, I got drunk with my co-workers and decided to shoot C a text since I knew she was getting off work and leaving around the same time. We streetcar’d home together and we caught up on in person – I was drunk and verbal diahhrea’ing. I didn’t mind – I felt I could trust her to keep all this in confidence. I told her and showed her a picture of this girl from Tinder who I was texting (details to follow), talked about my coworkers, and talked about random things. Oddly, as I showed her our texts, she grabbed the phone from out of my hand and started going through my text messages with other people… It was intrusive but I didn’t know how to address it – I was drunk.
Even after getting off the streetcar, we took the long way back through her condo building so we could both have more time to catch up. We hadn’t in a while especially since I had distanced myself from her recently.
Next thing I know (and I’m still pretty tipsy at this point), she’s yelling at me in an empty food court at 3am. “I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t”. And she storms off.
I’m perplexed. My forehead sore from trying to recollect and make sense of everything that happened between getting on the streetcar and her abandoning me. It seemed to have gone downhill when the topic of the Korean girl came up — why her name came up, once-a-fucking-gain, I have no idea. Several times I was genuinely unsure if I was so drunk that I didn’t realize she was drunk – it would’ve helped things make so much more sense. It seemed to happen out of nowhere, her buried discontentment with me. It seemed like a terrible dream.
I messaged her the next day, open to talking out whatever had happened. I was still exponentially confused. She was open to talking but had no time until later that evening, at the bar where our friends would be meeting before going out to the club.
So we talked… and I made sure I wasn’t drunk this time.
And it went the exact opposite of how I had hoped. It blew up.
In hindsight, I wish I’d finished typing this up the day I started it (Sunday), but I dropped off after a few paragraphs and now it’s Wednesday…. and I’ve already talked far too much, to the point where it’s become exhausting to have to reiterate, revisit, and retell the stories – and relive what I was feeling when I was first telling them. But for the sake of this journal, I will try.
She was essentially berating me for how I had not invited the Korean girl and another person to New Years. My decision, as I stand by it, was built off “I cannot host another massive party as I have roommates/a live-in landlord. Therefore I must keep it small. Therefore I can only invite my closest friends”. When it was spread via social media that I had a party, it was interpreted by them as me siding with a friend in a feud she had with that person. This interpretation was wrong, but I can absolutely see how she would view it that way because if I were in her shoes, I would see it that way too. So I took the initiative to apologize for it seeming that way.
HER interpretation was that I had buried a bitter hatred for the Korean girl not reciprocating my feelings, thus it played a part in my decision not to invite them. Coupled with my rolling my eyes when she brought her name up, I can see how it may seem like contempt… which I could not explain in the moment – it was pure instinct. When she called me out on it and extrapolated that as an indication of toxic feelings, I gave a poor explanation, but in hindsight (and a clearer, less emotionally affected mind), I was able to articulate (to myself, and too late), that it was at the fact that we are, once again, talking about her. And I never bring her up. She’s the one who ever brings it up.
I just don’t have the energy to type it up.
TL;DR I trusted her and I felt like she betrayed my trust (by going through my text messages, by telling her partner everything) and while I thought she was listening and giving me a shoulder to lean on, she was silently judging me. And she let it show on Saturday in its truest form and I cried because I had opened up and been vulnerable (I argued that night that these two can be separated, but she argued that they go hand in hand — after discussing it with someone else who believed as she did, I think it’s something that I want to explore in depth – but another day. Because, as the point of this blog, I want to rationalize my gut feelings. Perhaps I am wrong, but until I articulate my gut feeling, I am going to table this. But I DI-FUCKING-GRESS)……… and I was hurt. And it hurt deep because the fact is she sees the good in everyone and has good intentions. As I’ve preached on this blog over and over and over again, the only thing that matters about a person when/if judging them, is their intentions – not their actions.
At one point in the midst of our heated argument on Saturday, she asked, rhetorically, what I think the solution to gay drama is. Unprepared, but without hesitation, I said “communication”. I still believe that. I genuinely feel if she had communicated how she felt all this time, we could’ve avoided all this. I did my best.
The worst part is, I trusted her enough to let her know about this blog. But I hope she’s not reading this because many of these are unfinished thoughts that I’ve rushed to write down – I’m already a few days behind on the posting and if I don’t write something down now, I never will. Not to mention things have unfolded that I think would be healthy to write about. Like having a minor (?) panic attack last night.
But I’m all “wrote out”. It will have to wait til next time.
I’d also like to write about the girl I’ve been texting. We’re moving a little too fast and it’s freaking me out.
And parts of her remind me of Twitter girl. Which scares me because I ended up falling for the idea of her, and not her.
2017…. please be kind. I don’t know how much more I can take.
I had a massive crush on a girl in third year. It was the hardest (and purest) crush to get over because I didn’t fall for her immediately – I slowly (and deeply) fell for her personality. (I’d written about her before)
She’s a good person with great intentions, and she’s highly empathetic, perceptive, and conscious of other people’s emotions. Most strikingly, she’s the best conversationalist – she’s so engaging and outspoken. And although this package would seem to be one wrapped in self-confidence, she’s so humble, modest, and self-conscious. As strange as this may sound, she opened my eyes to self-deprecating jokes.
I tried (we all did) keeping in touch with her but she drifted after graduation, spending life with her boyfriend (whom she’d introduced to us once). But we met up again for drinks tonight, her, a friend, and I, after over a year of no communication (nothing deliberate – we just drifted). At one point, she congratulated me on coming out. She also took the initiative to ask me questions about my life, deliberately switching gears from the conversation – which I found so interesting (and nice).
She hasn’t changed much. Only me – I’m just looking at her with new eyes. And she’s as beautiful (if not more) a person as before.
You know how sometimes you meet a person and you’re just so happy they exist? And that they make the world a better place by just existing?
I’m glad I fell for her. Bisexual or not, she was a crush that, in hindsight, I’m proud of.
p.s. she still does that thing with her hair – she twirls it round and round her fingers as you’re talking. The only thing that’s changed is her curls aren’t as prominent and her hair’s straighter. Must be the boyfriend.