I'm doing 17 things
for some reason, my friends don’t think i’m boring. that’s because i have an exclusive tendency to extra-ordinary weirdness – and also, because exciting things keep happening to me, which is why i usually seem to be leading turbulent life style.
but (and there’s always a BUT) there is one aspect of my existence that is as untouched as the vast desert of moab: dating. like most girls, i do have the strange habit of falling in love with the wrong guy, and by “wrong guy” i mean the wrongest guy within a 77-mile radius. typically, i won’t fall OUT of love with that wrong guy for about two years. once i finally do, i will usually indulge in a long-term state of what i like to call “uninteresting crushlessness” for about another year or so. and then, THEN the whole thing will start all over again – but with a different wrong guy.
don’t believe me? let me illustrate my point by making a few autobiographical references here: it startet when i was eleven (yes, eleven). i was thunderstruck by his appearance, and i was to be continuously thunderstruck until the age of thirteen. by the time that i was falling OUT of love with him, he finally asked me if i wanted to be his girlfriend. obviously, my answer was no thank you, goodbye. however, what followed then was a painful phase of regretting what i had done, and then hating him, and then regretting it again. that state lasted until i was about… about 15 or so. ah, what the heck, i was a child back then, and he was my first big (unrequited) love.
then came the next wrong guy. why was he wrong? because he was half-way into drugs, his brother was all the way into drugs, and his sister was anorexic. i don’t think i need to elaborate on this point. nevertheless, it did take me a year or so to get him off my mind.
after that, at age 16, i went on an exchange year in the united states. lucky me, i spent it in a mountain community, where the only half-way goodlooking guy was a monstrously tall and very empty-headed footballplayer at my high school. let’s just say i spent the year simply looking at him, not making a move, of course. he was wrong.
when i got home, i picked the wrongest of all wrong guys i have EVER met. he was a very moody, unhappy, angry type of man. from what i could tell, he had experienced serious damage from his traumatizing childhood, he obviously felt inferior to me, and he had the very unfunny tick of lifting me up and holding me over the reiling of a balcony when he was drunk. wrong. WRONG. now, i liked him until i was like 18, but then i went to university and got out of touch with him on purpose.
and that’s where we are now. university. on the very first day in my very first course i met the guy i fell out of love with about three weeks ago. meaning, he has been on my mind for what… one and a half year now? even though he has (or used to have) a girlfriend, seems incapable of stepping up to her, and is an incredible coward? yes, and wrong again.
can you see a pattern there? the pattern of wrongness maybe? congratulations, it took you five minutes and me ten years. ten years of stupid idiots, ten years of analyzing everything they said and did, ten years of feeling unloved, ten years of not even noticing anyone except the wrong guy, and ten years of hopeless dramadramadrama.
but that, THAT is over with now. i have resolved to take control and not be a victim of wrongness anymore. how will i put that into practice? - ONE DATE A MONTH, for a year, that means twelve guys a year, that means twelve instead of just one for two years. get it? i figured i need to be open, i need to see other guys as well. that way i am not in danger of thinking about one single idiot for months and months and months. instead, i will have fun, get to know one or two NORMAL people, and hence free myself of the everlasting wrongness.
