Warning: Whiny, single girl rant ahead. Read at own risk (also, if you want a good laugh or are someone who knows me in real life and wants to know every aspect of my love life -noneatall- than go right ahead.)
For the longest time, it’s been a running joke among my friends that I always fall for the most random guys and, for the most part, I never understood what they were talking about. It’s not like I chose to like a certain kind of guy. If anything, I can’t say I have a type. I mean, there was a long streak of blonde haired, blue eyed guys, but then there was a Mexican guy and tons of Asian guys, too. Either way, I’ve come to the realization that they were right. My attraction to certain men is very questionable. For one thing, Fernie was a guy I would NEVER have thought I’d be attracted to, especially after the guys I had liked back home. Seriously, NEVER. A boyish face. No facial hair (I’m a scruffle kind of girl). A party boy personality. Total flirt. Too damn hyper to not be on something. Macho (which, in the end, just plain got on my nerves even after I stopped thinking he was Mr. Perfect). There was a lot of friends saying, “What in the ever living hell do you find attractive about him, Brittney?” To this day, I still have no answer. I saw him today in my infamous creeper fashion (the Reg office filling out a form. I booked it when I realized it was him) and I was totally fascinated with my reaction or lack thereof. Trust me when I say that when I like someone, even if they don’t reciprocate the feelings, I like them for a long time. Fernie was a two year long crush, which I find irritating now. My sense of loyalty, even when that guy doesn’t deserve it, is so twisted- I like you, you don’t like me, but, hey, I’ll just like you exclusively in hopes that you’ll become aware of my decision to like you exclusively and will start to develop feelings for me too. Yeah. I know. Told you it was twisted. The thing that I’ve come to realize about myself and the guys I like is that there usually isn’t any hope in any relationship forming; whether it be because the guy is a bajillion years older than me (Um, that guy I would rather not go into. All I can say is that was a crush that lasted longer than I would have liked and it shouldn’t have formed in the first place) or because I unconsciously do everything in my power (which is nothing at all) to sabotage any relationship (usually friendship) that could ever evolve. The latter is, of course, describing what I believe is what happened with the Fernie Fiasco (ha, I like that). Anyway, I guess I’m starting to want to like someone again. It’s been a few months and, because I’m in Spokane and have decided that Facebook is a waste of life, the only guys I’ve been talking to are Ruben, Jason, and the Sunday dinner men. All either have love interests/girlfriends/wives, which is, of course, problematic and makes them off-limits.
So, I guess all I’m saying is that even though crushes are pretty pointless I still want one because it makes me feel a little less lonely. Le sigh.