My mother and sister are now all too familiar with my daily ritual of telling them, in extremely great detail and normally for about two hours, about my day. Sometimes it is extremely funny like that time I dropped Red Bull on my pants and it looked like I wet myself so I had to stand in front of a hand dryer in the bathroom and awkwardly try to dry my pants (while wearing it of course) or sometimes it’s extremely annoying (for them, at least) like that time I started telling them about all I had learnt about the decolonization of education and it’s benefits as well as my own lengthy opinions. Mostly though it’s a combination of funny, whimsical and a little “what-the-hell-was-she-thinking” which is basically every time I come home only to tell them about the latest boy who has caught my eye. This usually leads to my sister adding another name to “The List” and my mother hoping I won’t ask “stupid questions” or end up dating him. Yikes! you might think. Trust me, I know.
Basically I tend to have the annoying habit of seeing a guy, liking what I see and then hoping somehow God or the Universe will hear my silent plea and make the stars align. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit. Actually no, I’m not. I wish I were though so maybe that will get me some brownie points.
Please note, however, that I am not actively trying to get a boyfriend. If I were I’d be on Tinder or something. All I’m trying to do is meet someone I can be with. I love my life. I hardly have time for the level of commitment needed to sustain a healthy relationship and my uncle would probably kill me (and the guy after he finds him) if I did end up dating someone. Life is tough, guys.
It doesn’t stop me from hoping though that the guy I chat with on the bus would one day ask for my number or the hipster in class would one day want to talk about more than just the assignment on hand. I’ll admit it right now. I’m a romantic. I think we all secretly are. Love is so beautiful in the books and movies and songs. It’s so passionate and happy and wonderful. It’s worth all the pain and sacrifices (sometimes) and I want my piece of it.
It’s just that knowing when a guy likes you has become so hard. In primary school, he’d hit you or make fun of you and follow you around and you would know. Now you just don’t. Despite reading all the blogs, magazines and watching YouTube videos (don’t you dare judge me), I’m still lost. Plagued by thoughts of “what is wrong with me” and “what can i do or change or say that will change his mind” and “is he shy or just not that into me”. It becomes this endless cycle of insecurities. It becomes self-doubt that pours into every other part of my life. It becomes me questioning everything and everyone in my life simply because my bus buddy didn’t ask for my number. That is complete craziness.
My friends will offer condolences and advice. They say that maybe he is just shy. Maybe you should make the first move but I don’t really want to. Does any girl really want to date a guy who can’t even get the courage to ask for her number? This small act would effectively change the entire dynamic of the relationship. It would change the fairy tale idea in my head. My friends also point out that there are other fish in the sea. It’s just a shame that I’m bad at fishing. I don’t know if I have the right bait.
The people that I see make it all look so easy. They make it all fit together so neatly which leaves me awestruck and wondering what I’m missing. It’s not that I’m incomplete without a guy because I am completely complete and completely happy and completely me. It’s just that it would be nice to go on a date with someone, to have someone to fight and make up with, to talk to, to hang out with and to hear the words “You’re beautiful” or “I Love You” or “What can I do to cheer you up?”. Is that so wrong?
Personally, I think I should be blaming biology for this because it feels like my brain compels me to want to fall in love. These stupid hormones and stupid chemicals are like “It would be so nice if he hugged you, Nadine. Don’t you want to endorphins to be released and make you all happy? Don’t you want dopamine and serotonin and oxytocin in your head? We’ll make you feel better. Come on, Nadine, go for it.” You see, my brain manipulates me. It tells me to disregard my 10 year plan and my family’s advice. It tells me to get his attention.
It will suffice to say that I follow the direction my brain tells my to go in. A path that is more destructive than good because it always ends the same way.
Okay, maybe I am venting a bit but I hope you get my point. My point being that despite all my logic and all the advice given to me and my own past experience, I still hope to find that love. I still flirt a bit here and I still fantasize about how everything might somehow work out. I still look for Prince Charming because I’m locked in a tower in my head. A tower of mistrust, insecurity and fear. I need him to come and save me.
I have tried to save myself and most of the time I believe that I have finally achieved it but the truth is, this isn’t something I can save myself from. I need help and I think he can save me. Whoever he is, where ever he is.
I know when to give up. I know when to move on. I know when to change my tracks. I don’t go actively looking for him but I can’t stop myself from hoping that every and any guy I meet could be him. I don’t want to miss my chance and I don’t want to regret it some day. So I dive in and hope for the best. When things don’t go my way, I pick myself up and I focus on me until the cycle starts all over again.
Some people might have a few not so kind words about me. Please note that I barely even have dating experience. I’m just a little too hopeful. I’m just a little too scared. I’m just a girl who wants to be noticed for once as something more than a good friend. Friendzones are brutal, people!!