You know what I’m talking about.
I know you know. Because from what I’ve gathered in this limited life, most everyone has been where I’ve been. You know my thoughts, you know what I’m feeling. At least I hope you have. Otherwise, this will be a long and lonely lifetime.
Allow me to introduce myself…
So this is me. Chronically second place. Here I stand before you, judged and crucified. But I will myself to become restored, therefore I am.
I could spew out the mandatory cliches of “when life hands you lemons, make lemonade” but you know what? Forget that. I’m pissed off. And I hate lemonade.
Here’s a history lesson for those less acquainted with me: In the past month and a half, I’ve been called in on account of family emergency, lost a dear friend and been relationshipally screwed over…. although on second thought, can you really be screwed over by someone who has lacked the ability to commit to you in the first place??
I’ve come to grips on the family tragedy that is currently taking place (they tell me about all the things cancer cannot do, but I see also what it can do), and I’ve made my peace with my beloved friend while sitting alone with his essence in the room in which he left this world.
Life? I get that. It’s simple. Work hard, be a good person and you’re sorted. Karma will take care of the rest. Death? It’s harder, yeah, but I get that too. It’s a vital part of living, and of being human. It’s what makes us real. But love, well, love is the complicated one. Love is a strange bird of prey- it soars above humanity, one wing dipped in gold, the other in tar. Love is the thing that will make your mind split and the whispering voices seep in. Love, in my humble opinion, is the ledge of a dangerous abyss.
So you want the fairytale, huh? Well I have new for you, Sunshine. It’s not happening. There is no soundtrack to the sad stories that play out in our lives. There is no dramatic profession of love in a crowded airport or atop a beautiful desolate scene. If you start singing in a crowded room, no one will join you in your quest to put a smile on your beloved’s face. Richard Gere will not climb a fire escape with a bundle of roses while opera music blares out from his waiting limousine for you. In fact, no one will. May as well face it kiddo. It’s not going to happen.
Here’s my issue: I have been graced most of my life with with men who say all he wants in a relationship is a low-maintenance, down to earth girl, but historically in my experience, whenever they are presented with just that, they will brush us off every time for the “other” girl. And ladies, you know exactly who I’m talking about here. She’s the one who is always fitter than you (which in itself is an awkward definition), prettier, funnier and more interesting than you. She’s got herself “together”- she has the perfect hair, the perfect smile and always says just the right thing. She’s the one who is noticed in a crowded room and I’ll bet you anything that looking back, she was the one who tormented you throughout school too. I don’t get it. And maybe you don’t either. Which puts us in the same boat, Sunshine. Welcome.
See, my way of thinking (as frowned upon as it is these days) is more along the lines of living a drama-free life. It’s something that I cannot help. I am not into the ways of mind games where you have to play all the stupid, petty little schemes in which you keep the other person guessing whether of not you actually like them. It’s immature, it’s pointless and it’s bullshit. I’m sorry, but I outgrew the 6th grade mind games somewhere around the age of 9. And I suggest the men of this generation do the same. I am so fed up with meeting “great” guys who seem to be a perfect match for me only to be vastly disappointed in their lack of a) common courtesy (although “common” is a strong word) b) respect, and c) reliability. How can it be so hard to find someone out there who is physically attractive and mentally stable all in one dependable package? Why is it so hard for people to do what they say they will do? If you like, me, TELL me!! Don’t play the game. If you don’t want to see me again, TELL me!! Don’t play the game! I mean seriously- Is this such a difficult concept to grasp? I’m not made of sugar and glass, I won’t shatter and my tears definitely won’t break me.
Over the years I’ve come second to a great many things. I’ve not been good enough for a great many people. Nothing hurts more. I try to rise above, but the shadows of those scars lurk forever in the dark corners of my thoughts. Yet, here I am. If I must stand alone, I will, but I don’t believe that I do.