i’ve got enough in my head to fill a couple of posts, but i’m going to attempt to put it all together in this one post in a way that is coherent and fluid. then i’m going to bed.

now, having said that, i’m not sure where to begin. certain revelations have come to me in the wake of week old events. they are neither hopeful nor surprising. these revelations, however, are confusing and have caused me to develop a new theory. what these revelations also do is shed light on an aspect of my psyche that i hadn’t previously contemplated. and so, following the order of the title, let’s begin….

i am bad with girls. yes, i know, big surprise. i’ve always been bad with girls, for as long as i can remember. sure, most of my friends are girls (i still haven’t figured that out), but it’s the ones that aren’t my friends that put me ill at ease. granted, this uneasiness stems from deep seated self doubt that i’ve battled against for years, but haven’t quite been able to completely conquer. this self doubt rears it’s ugly head whenever there’s a girl around that i’m interested in (or might be), or that is (or might be) interested in me. to be completely honest, the last time any girl showed the slightest interest in me was nearly six years ago.

the way i’ve put it to friends in recent email inquiries goes like this: “to say i have, when it comes to relating to women on any kind of romantic level (from flirting to dating), issues, may be an understatement. i have no skill; i’m all thumbs; i’m utterly useless; i have two left feet.” that’s about as accurate and thorough as i can be.

now, as a result of this self-doubt, even when a girl is flirting with me, i’m never sure and often strive for third party, objective observation. such was the case last weekend. the details are not new and uninteresting, so i won’t bore you with them here. after such third party inquiries were made, my suspicions were, though not sternly, confirmed. see, with both hesitant confirmations came with a clause; she’s naturally a flirtatious person. and there’s the revelation….

with this fresh information for my brain to chew on, i started to develop a theory; flirting without intent, or ‘for fun,’ is similar to bullying. bullies, do so because of the response they get from their mark. it makes them feel good about themselves, makes them feel powerful. i say the same is true for those people who ‘flirt because it’s fun.’ it’s fun because of the response (often times the response is reciprocation, i’m sure) given by their mark. of course, the mark is usually someone smaller (in the case of the bully) or less able to deal with the ‘flirting for fun’ (in the case of the flirt, obviously). the only difference i can see, is that at no time is the bullying fun for the bully’s mark. there’s no upside for them. at least for the victim of the constant flirt, there is some immediate good feelings before the painful blow of the reality of the situation. this is not a sexist theory, so to speak. men do it and women do it and members of both sexes are equally victims.

in thinking about it now, i feel like i am a long time victim of the flirt, just as i used to be the victim of the bully. i have no doubt that both types of act against me have been equally damaging to my self confidence, though maybe in different ways.

(after a pause and some additional thought on the theory, i think i’ll have to have a separate post to flesh it out in greater detail.)

of course, i’m sure there are those of you out there who feel differently, who have a differing or contrary opinion. if you’re one who feels as such, i ask you to make your case here; leave a comment….

girls, check. anxiety, check. theory, check. on to newly revealed parts of my psyche.

recently, a friend of mine has been attending speed dating events. now, i’ll admit to looking down on these events with just a bit of disdain, though i’ve never been able to vocalize any real reason. admittedly, i’m a former eharmony subscriber, though i’ve decided the service is total crap, especially given the cost. today, however, on my way home from work, it came to me. the reason i have such a distaste for speed dating events is because of what they stand for, what they mean for the various attendees: a last ditch attempt at finding love.

these people have tried dating via normal modes of interaction. they may have even been in long term relationships (something i can’t say myself) that ultimately haven’t worked out. given the other means of finding a meaningful, long lasting relationship have failed, they resort to organized and structured dating. this to me represents lost hope. they have given up on fate, chance, or g-d, and put their fate in the hands of the event organizers. it’s this loss of hope that so bothers me.

this isn’t to say i’ve any hope remaining that fate, chance, or g-d will favor me any better. i gave up that hope quite some time back. and while i continue to struggle with that reality and what it means for me, i have, for the most part, accepted that reality. so, what i think bothers me so much is that the people who attend these types of events (or any other sort of dating service) either refuse to accept this reality of their life, or simply haven’t figured out that they are destined to share my fate in the matter of love.

in thinking about this tonight, i’ve come up with an analogy that seems to make sense (at least it makes sense tonight): the happiness box. i do believe that everyone has, or at least deserves some kind of happiness in their life. i certainly have happiness in mine. that’s not to say, however, that happiness includes love, a girlfriend, wife, etc. such happiness just isn’t in the cards for some people (i believe myself to be included in this group) and instead of focusing on the happiness they don’t and won’t have, they should focus on that which they do have. good friends, loving family, a successful career, living in a beautiful place, and the like.

we all have a happiness box which contains those particular happy things for us. the box may not, however, contain those things that aren’t meant for us, like fame, fortune, love, etc. we live in this box and stepping outside of it can be dangerous, like an animal living a happy life in the grass or trees along the side of the road, that’s their happy box. leaving it means crossing the road, which means almost certainly getting hit by some kind of four wheeled vehicle. granted, people who stepping out of the box probably won’t die, but they’ll almost certainly feel like they’ve been hit by a semi before limping back to their respective boxes. we aren’t always the fastest learners, myself included. i’ve stepped out of my happiness box more than once, only to limp back each time wondering what the hell i was thinking.

maybe this time i’ve learned my lesson and will stick with the things i have that make me happy and stop searching for those happinesses that aren’t meant for me.

and with that, i retire to bed (after one more smoke). i wonder how i’ll feel about this post tomorrow?