As Valentine’s Day creeps up on us, I find myself turning inward.
Looking back at all my past relationships, they all seem so random. Just a bunch of pick up sticks, jumbled together, brittle and pointed, yet when I try to extricate one memory, they all move and fall over on themselves. They are all connected in their arbitrary nature. Well, that’s not altogether true, there is one common denominator – me. I am the one that defined these relationships, and I must say I’m the last guy you want defining anything.
I am the anti-thesis of the ‘dream guy’. I’m not romantic, I eschew convention, I hate kids and am wary of marriage. I don’t enjoy going to fancy restaurants, I’ve never bought anyone jewelry, I don’t like going to the movies, or taking long walks. The thought of going on a vacation to some spot like Aruba, or the Bahamas fills me with ambivalence. I won’t buy you chocolate, I don’t like going to parties, I hate most people.
I’m a disaster, and yet I still feel superior to most.
The truth is though, you’d have to be crazy to get involved with me, and as it turns out most of my exes have been…crazy that is. My current girlfriend isn’t nuts per se, but she’s an oddball. That’s who I attract. Like I said, you’d have to be to stick with me.
I don’t bring flowers home, or perfume. I tease, and constantly ask questions most women can’t stand like…
‘Have you ever heard this song before?’
‘What are your top 5….?’
‘Do you know who the cinematographer was on this movie?’
‘For 500$ What’s the connection between the Moody Blues and Wings?’
Oh… and I hate Valentine’s Day.
To me it’s a moronic waste of time and money. Doesn’t everyone know it’s how ‘the man’ gets you to spend money on a bunch of shit that’s just gonna go in the garbage the next day? I mean seriously.. Vermont Teddy Bears? First off, what the fuck difference does it matter where a teddy bear comes from? What makes Vermont the teddy bear capital of the world? Moreover, what woman over the age of 8 gives a rats ass about stuffed animals? To me its just condescending infantilism of women.
Still, though my arguments and rationalizations are golden as far as I’m concerned, it still doesn’t make me anymore appealing when it comes to me being relationship material. I’m truly UN-FUN. I accept this about myself. I also give fair warning in advance on all my proclivities. Unfortunately a lot of times no one can initially believe I’m as much of a misery as I say I am. They all find out though in the end.
I have to say my girlfriend continues to hang in there though – poor girl. She’s persistent. That doesn’t mean she’s getting chocolates on Valentines Day though, ‘cause she won’t.