Like a Hammer to the Skull

i feel like i just got mugged by cupid.

taken: all decency and self respect; my desire to use internet dating sites; the fledgeling serenity i was starting to develop.

really though... i talk to people online, and i don't really expect anything more than a pleasant conversation at the best, a nice little internet friend. and i have found such a one. his name is snoogie, for the sake of this post and his anonymity. he lives in brooklyn, works for a jewish non-profit, is quite cute, and hopelessly in love with his possibly deeply closeted best friend of many years.

i hear you clamoring with your questions, but i ask you to hold them until the end of this seminar.

so i've been talking to snoogie for a few weeks, maybe three months, i suppose. its very pleasant. he is witty, keen, funny, clever, quick to laugh, etc. all the things a josh maru might look for in a friend. spiff. we share time, trade fun youtube videos (the modern day equivalent, i now realize, of trading mix tapes...), etc.

a week ago, i became ill, and am still at less than 100%. aww... sad for me, i know. in addition, i fear sleep, as though to sleep is to die. very shakespearean, but not so healthy when you need rest in order to get back to functional. i will not sleep. i didn't sleep last night. and here it is, three thirty, and i'm blogging. there you go.

so in the midst of this fogginess, and general woozy strangeness, i recieve the inevitable yet unseen frying pan to the face: i have... feelings... for snoogie... those warm, oozy feelings, where all the cute little love songs you've been listening to are suddenly about one person in particular... it has been... quite some time since i felt these creepy, sneaky, and above all overwhelmingly POWERFUL feelings... and i'm gonna be honest, they fucking freaked the ever living hell out of me!

so of course, i've wigged out, had a few conversations with snoogie about this new situation (probably wrecking any friendship we had in the process...), etc. we agree that it would be miserable to try and develop anything along romantic lines. and he has a best friend to try and move things along with.

and now i'm left with questions...

am i ready for anything anyway? what the fuck actually just happened to me? what is going on? why am i so utterly dense? and when, will i learn that i need to put the internet away, and get a real life?

i just don't fuckin' know anymore. but i think i'm gonna try to sleep.

goodnight, snoogie, wherever you are.

It's not you, it's me. I hate you.

i think i might be a maneater. a ball buster. a something else that usually isn't looked upon as good. a person who doesn't let you know what they're thinking until all at once, in one big lump, and its never something good or nice.

if you can't tell, i have recently ended an internet friendship/love-interest/sex-partner/conversation thing. i don't know what it is or was. i'm speaking to him now, as a matter of fact. even though we were not going to talk as much. but he's drunk. i guess its an excuse or something... something...

but you know, i was straight up with him. i tried to be as nice as possible while remaining honest. i didn't get angry at him when he was angry, and i answered his questions as best i could. i am a very kind and humane dumper, as a matter of fact. i should put that on my resume immediately.

my mom says, in her infinite psychological wisdom, that when people are dumped, they try and get the dumper to explain their logic. and then, since they refuse to understand that logic, clearly, you can't really dump them. you aren't making sense. man did i laugh at that... as though anyone ever needed a rational and logical reason for doing anything... but there you go.

and i never want to tell people the truth about why i can't be around them anymore. its never pretty. they don't want to hear that. and yet, they ask questions... they want to know it all... ohhh no they don't. you know they don't, but still they ask... and i don't want them to feel bad about it. its the classic, "its not you, its me." because it is me. i fundamentally don't like them. that's not their fault. why should they change for me? that's silly. you're silly! so lest they think i'm being cliche, i've coined the phrase that titles this blog post.

"It's not you, it's me. I hate you."

i hate you, i invite you to hate me, and it's not your fault. you're a perfectly fine human being. and i simply don't like you. i don't know if that should reflect badly on me, if it makes me any specific sort of person, but you know what? i don't care either. its done.

and now i'm debating economic philosophy with him. what, the, fuck...

anyway... yeah. i would be glad to be labeled a maneater. i think it might be true. i would wear the badge proudly. perhaps i'm like clementine that way... i'm just a fucked up person looking for their own peace of mind. i'm not out to save anybody, to titillate them. even though i may save and titillate as a matter of course.

i don't know. i really just don't know.

and oh look. we just had our second breakup. the first one didn't take. but i think this one did the trick.

please god...

i mean really, how many times do you have to break up with the same person? in the same situation? ridiculous...

and yes, i feel like an asshole.