I've been thinking a lot about my relationships tonight. Partly because I'm not currently in one, partly because I'd really like to be in one with my scorching hot roommate Adelia, but mostly because I've been drinking a lot.
The bodega down the street from me has been having a special on Yuengling Lager and I just can't justify not buying a six-pack every time I walk by the place. It's a good bodega and the Crips that hang out in front offer a sense of security that the Bloods just wouldn't be able to provide.
So yes, I've been drinking a lot. Back to the point at hand. Why am I terrible at relationships?
I met my first girlfriend in seventh grade. Her name was Danielle something-or-other. We never had sex or made out with each other. It was all very sweet and innocent. We met at our school trip to the Nutcracker at the Wang Center in Boston (I'm just now realizing how ridiculous that sounds, but believe me, folks, every year at XMas they show the Nutcracker at the Wang Center).
We held hands in the hallways and called each other at night and went to the occasional movie with a group of friends. Our relationship was noted at that point for being Long Term due to the fact that it lasted about two months.
It ended on our school's trip to Washington D.C. Everybody remember that? It was a good time. Lots of walking involved in that trip. After we went to the zoo, we were all on the bus and heading towards some landmark or another, and I'm sitting next to Danielle and we're holding hands and the following bit of dialogue takes place.
Danielle: "My leg hurts."
Me: "My legs hurt too."
Danielle: "I think I'll take my leg off."
Me: "Um. OK. What?"
And then she took her leg off.
Looking back I think I handled the situation poorly, what with the jaw-dropping and not being able to say anything for a few minutes, but damn. What could I have possibly done? Nothing in my upbringing could have prepared me for that. My girlfriend of two months had a fake leg, and I simply had no idea. Apparently, everyone else in the school knew about it, but I had no idea.
I broke up with her about a week later. Not because she had a fake leg, mind you, but because if I could somehow miss something that bizarre and huge, then obviously I wasn't paying nearly enough attention and she'd be better off with someone who would notice that she always wore jeans, walked with a slight limp, and HAD A FAKE LEG.
I think that ever since then I've had two incredibly bad habits. One is being completely oblivious to any major problems that I've had with the various girls I've dated. The second problem is that I never trust anyone due to the fact that I'm constantly afraid that I'll be sitting on a bus with them and they're going to do something like remove a limb.
Actually, three bad habits. The third habit is that I cheat on all my girlfriends because I never allow myself to get close to anyone (small confession here -- yes, Jil, that includes you as well).
So I never trust anyone, I cheat on people, and I'm oblivious to very obvious character points. So, why? For fucks sake, why am I constantly barraged by my ex-girlfriends on an almost daily basis?
Why do they keep in contact with me, when I do very obvious things to get them to never speak to me again (if you are one of my exes, then rest assured, I'm talking about everyone but you)?
You know what it is? It's the damned internet. That's the reason why I hate livejournal. I stopped posting in it because anytime I did, I'd have some ex-girlfriend or another post an asinine comment in the thing telling me that I was either a complete ass or that I should get back together with them (depending on the week). That, of course, would upset my current girlfriend, who I then would have to break up with because I'd find out that she had a weird fetish for drinking my blood.
You know what I need? I need another beer. Confound it all! I love it, though. Tune in next week!