My college homecoming just happened. I wasn't there and I am very sad about it. That whole weekend, I had to watch the play-by-play of all the fun events on Instagram. It sucked. But one IG story that caught my attention was that of Brandon Thomas, a guy who was a senior when I was a freshman. It was about his making amends with his college girlfriend after over 15 years of feeling guilty.
To understand the significance of this, you have to understand Brandon. He is cute and charismatic, but is best known for his outrageous social media posts about women and dating. One of my personal favorites is one where he goes in on a date because she had the audacity to order a desert on their first dinner outing. But that is only one of many posts that discuss how women are just out to get him for his money and clout and blah blah blah.
So, Brandon goes to homecoming and runs into Shanna, his girlfriend from freshman year. He was in love with her, but said he was being a "f*ck boy" and the relationship didn't work out. The very next man that Shanna got with, she married and is still married to today. He had the opportunity to talk to her, and she forgave him for whatever it was he did to end their young relationship.
As young adults, most of us didn't have instructions on how to date properly. Everything we learned was from rap songs and bad advice drunk family members gave us; movies and what our dumb friends told us. All we knew was that we should do the least possible to hurt the person we cared about, and 9 times out of 10, we ended of doing the opposite. Man, there is know hurt worse than the hurt caused by some who didn't know better; someone who had your heart and didn't know what to do with it. But what I have learned with age is that you should do right by folks not just because it is the right thing to do, but because doing bad by folks sticks in your system as well. You feel worse about the situation the older you get and the better your understanding of what a douche you were becomes.
Brandon had the taste of douche in his mouth for 15 years while the ex love of his life had moved on and married. For 15 years he wondered what if while she went on with her life. I think everyone has a Brandon chapter in their book. This whole thing made me wonder how easy dating would be if we didn't carry around regrets from past relationships. Most of us will never know. I know I won't after the Dreads situation. I guess all any of us can do is try to do better.
Showing posts with label fuck boy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fuck boy. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
The Douche Dynamic
Labels:
breakups,
dating,
emotions,
fuck boy,
homecoming,
hurt,
men,
pain,
relationships,
women
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
The Barber pt. 2
You all would be so proud of me.
I have been even more needy than usual lately. I experienced a loss in my family and since then, I have been in desperate need of long hugs and soft conversation. In my mind, this is the definition of compassion. But as you all know, my mind is not often in line with reality.
Anyway, just as I was feeling at my worst, I got a text from The Barber. Can you believe it?! The last time I heard from him, he told me that he wouldn't come see me unless I could guarantee him sex! He said what all f**k boys say in a text when they are trying to get on your good side: Hey.
This is where you guys will be proud of me: I didn't respond.
For many of you gals out there with stellar self-esteem, you probably don't see the achievement here. But for simps like me, especially ones in extreme emotional distress, this is a big deal. Not engaging a loser for attention when you are lonely can be very hard.
Now, I won't lie. For a split second I did think of responding. I needed some type of kindness, and by this point, my friends had had it with my depression and were forwarding me to voicemail like I was a bill collector. I thought that maybe me and The Barber could meet up and he could hug me. Then, if he tried anything else, I could scream in his face and run to the nearest corner to catch an Uber.
But honestly, I didn't feel like running. I also didn't feel like a second of niceness was going to be worth the disrespect he would inevitably give me later when he didn't get his way. You may call this common sense. I call it growth.
I have been even more needy than usual lately. I experienced a loss in my family and since then, I have been in desperate need of long hugs and soft conversation. In my mind, this is the definition of compassion. But as you all know, my mind is not often in line with reality.
Anyway, just as I was feeling at my worst, I got a text from The Barber. Can you believe it?! The last time I heard from him, he told me that he wouldn't come see me unless I could guarantee him sex! He said what all f**k boys say in a text when they are trying to get on your good side: Hey.
This is where you guys will be proud of me: I didn't respond.
For many of you gals out there with stellar self-esteem, you probably don't see the achievement here. But for simps like me, especially ones in extreme emotional distress, this is a big deal. Not engaging a loser for attention when you are lonely can be very hard.
Now, I won't lie. For a split second I did think of responding. I needed some type of kindness, and by this point, my friends had had it with my depression and were forwarding me to voicemail like I was a bill collector. I thought that maybe me and The Barber could meet up and he could hug me. Then, if he tried anything else, I could scream in his face and run to the nearest corner to catch an Uber.
But honestly, I didn't feel like running. I also didn't feel like a second of niceness was going to be worth the disrespect he would inevitably give me later when he didn't get his way. You may call this common sense. I call it growth.
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