1. This is a big step for me. Thank you for listening/reading. I am drunk, depressed, lonely and feeling horrible.

    Y’all know what I want above anything else.

    A pretty woman. Lay down next to me. Rub my back. Calm me down.

  2. I am smart, funny and not a sexual/physical threat to a woman’s safety.

    Shit. That’s not enough. That’s not remotely close to being enough.

    Jesus Christ. Jesus.

  3. I’m not rich. I’m not sexually attractive. Holy shit. Why have I been worrying about other stuff? This is what I need to fix

  4. Love is capitalism. I need to accept this. What do I have to offer?

  5. I went against what I knew I should do. I went out tonight. I got drunk. I spent over $60 in the process. The only words I said to women tonight were, “Ooops, sorry” when I bumped into them and and “Oh, sorry” when they bumped into me.

    I gotta stop doing this.

  6. Yesterday Was Funny

    I hadn’t heard from Sam in weeks since she started dating “Random Pseudo Intellectual From Greensboro #2”. They broke up last week. He relapsed into bipolar alcoholism. That night she started texting me again. 

    She was sending me Facebook messages throughout the day Tuesday. She wanted to hang out that night. I told her that I already had plans. Carrboro/Chapel Hill’s top tier bar trivia (at Steel String brewery) was that night. My team has no openings. She said she’d show up and play solo. She wanted to catch up. She wanted to show me her new car (‘08 or so Nissan 350Z). She wanted to know what team name we were using, maybe she could have a name that riffed off of it (B.Y.O.B/GYN).

    All afternoon I laughed to myself wondering if she’d actually show up. I don’t care anymore. She’s blown so many chances. She’s messed up. I’d fuck her, but I’m past the point of trying to chase her. All that afternoon I ran through potential scenarios of what could happen. Maybe I should buy Jameson as a way to lure her back to my place afterwards? Does she want me to drive her car? Does she need a shoulder to cry on? Well, my balls need someone to empty in. Ultimately I decided against doing anything special. Fuck it. I’m going to play trivia, have fun and drink beer with my friends.

    An hour before trivia she messaged me that she had a team name she wanted to use. It was too complicated and not funny Another message 10 minutes before it began to let me know that she was on her way there. That was already too late. I get there early to get a table. It was crowded. It’s always crowded right before nine but last night was exceptional. It was the busiest I’ve seen this trivia get. By the time it started at 9:15 there were twenty six teams. One team, four dudes, were sitting around their answer sheets on the floor. From my chair at the table I claimed, I had a clear view of the main entrance. Every single time someone entered I was checking. My teammates showed up just before it started, as normal. It was 10:10 before I saw Sam look into the bar through the window. I saw her. She looked around. She never gave me eye contact. She didn’t enter. She turned around and left. It was crowded and loud. She hates loud. At the end of the round we were playing I told my teammates what was happening. I went outside to see if she was there. She wasn’t. I sent her a message. “I think I saw you at the door tonight.” As of 11pm the next night, that Facebook message remains unread. Maybe she just viewed it from notifications, but there has been no response.

    I had a blast. There was a huge tie breaker for the first round. I was the only person to answer the first tie breaking question correctly. I knew that someone from the Greek island of Lesbos was called a “Lesbonian”. Nope, don’t call them all Lesbians. Free beer. The second and third rounds take place at the same time. The trivia host showed up at our table, knowing I was going to be the team representative for the tiebreaker. “You guys won the third round. You’re in the tie breaker for the second round. Throw it. Lose it or I’ll have to ask you to split your team up next week.” I agreed. I threw the second round tie breaker. I know that someone from Liverpool is a Liverpudlian. I wrote, “A Beatle?” I figure if I get a free beer at this trivia night I’m happy. There’s no reason to discourage any other teams from even showing up. We won round three. Free beer. We tied for round four. There was no warning. I won the tie breaker. The “Flying Scotsman” ran between London and Edinburgh. Free beer. We lost the music round, but not by much. We won overall for the night. Free beer.

    No response from Sam.

    My Tumblr friends, I’m not heartbroken anymore. How can I tell? I no longer relate to every sad song I listen to.

  7. I’m glad I didn’t cave in and start chatting with her again. I didn’t deserve what that was doing to me.

  8. The hardest thing for me since I started writing down what I was thinking and feeling probably isn’t what anyone would normally would suspect.

    Since I’ve gone years without physical affection, I don’t miss it. I miss having someone to talk to for hours. From sharing mundane details, asking for advice, sharing humorous finds… I miss that stuff the most.

    I do not miss being in love with someone who wasn’t in love with me. I don’t miss a lot of things. I am better off. I really am. I am happier.

  9. It’s been two weeks without any “waves” of sadness.There haven’t been any tears for no reason. I can’t begin to tell you how much better I feel.

    I don’t feel manic, I just, I don’t know how to say it, there’s nothing horribly wrong going on right now.

  10. So the night she breaks up with Greensboro Guy #2 is the first I hear from Sam in weeks.

I’ve heard her say that exact same “I need to focus on me” line before.

    So the night she breaks up with Greensboro Guy #2 is the first I hear from Sam in weeks.

    I’ve heard her say that exact same “I need to focus on me” line before.

  11. So I’m neurotic? This somehow makes sense

  12. Another personality test →

    This are my results. They seem horrifyingly accurate.

  13. People and the personal relationships they form can be very complicated, rewarding, complex and damaging.

    I showed up to Thursday night trivia ready to go. I’m still feeing upbeat and enthusiastic off of my Tuesday night win. Six people per team is the rule and my team is good. It’s funny. When I started going to this place I was going by myself. Then I was on a max size team because I was winning rounds by myself. Now other people I know are showing up and joining my team. Last night it was myself, my old roommate Tim, David- the recent UNC grad school graduate, two of his friends and my Tuesday night trivia teammate Will showing up half way through once he got off of work. There are about fifteen teams. We won four of the five rounds outright. We tied for the other round and lost the tie breaker.

    One of David’s friends, I can’t remember his name, was getting ribbed about not wanting to “see” (fuck) a girl he knew this weekend. It turns out there’s a woman he has affection for and this woman he has been fucking he hates. I’ve heard the term “hate fuck” before but usually only from promiscuous women that just used men with fantastic builds for sex to get off. He and this woman apparently can’t stand each other. The only thing they have in common is that they enjoy how they fit together in a sexual way. He chokes her. She likes it. He’s clearly embarrassed talking about this, but we’ve won enough free drinks where his lips are moving when they probably shouldn’t be.

    This isn’t for me. It never could be. I don’t like pain. I don’t like inflicting pain.

    After we won I’m drinking with Tim and Will. Here Will tells me about the hell he experienced in the so-called “friendzone”. He was in love with this woman for years. She, she dated his best friend for years. He tolerated it. He lived with it. “She’s not innocent in this. She knew what she was doing.”

     The fucked up part is that while that happened, I know he “friendzoned” a woman I’ve met through him. 

  14. I am not good at flirting with women. Thank goodness for the filter between my brain and my mouth.

    "You are pretty and drunk. I don’t know anything about you, but would you like to aggressively ride my face and then let me do things to you?"

    Yes. Thank you for that filter.

  15. Two dominating trivia victories in a week. I feel a confident peace. Let’s see how I feel Friday night.