Sunday, March 28, 2010

Back handed compliments and my screwed up nature.

I give lousy compliments because I don't know how to take them because of my self-loathing nature.

I was sitting on my couch with Tim on Saturday night. I looked at him and said, "I know this is going to sound stupid, but you are the best parts of everyone who ever broke my heart. You are so much more than just that though." He hugged me close and I tried hard not to cry. I let myself tear up. In a whispered voice, I spoke to him and told him how in so many small, but wonderful ways he makes me feel better about myself. I know my voice broke half a dozen times from choking back tears, but I didn't care. I was speaking to someone that could hear me. I can't remember the last time someone heard me, or I let them hear me.

I think that over the years, I lost the ability to speak. I mean I talk all the time. Ask anyone that really knows me. I talk a lot. I guess I normally don't really say anything. There's talking and there's talking. I know that in the past I tried to talk to guys I was with. I would say, "Let's talk." And then the dreaded, "What do you want to talk about?" would come up. I would die inside. Also whenever a guy would tell me, "Let's talk" that's douche bag code for, "You're getting dumped and I'm thinly veiling it with the premise of conversation." (I swear I could write a book on moron code.) I think that alone as scared me from conversation.

How is it that the people that hurt us most make us who we are? I mean my dad basically ignored me for the first 16 years of my life. Just about every guy that has ever dated me has left because of my parents, his parents, my friends, his friends, his inability to commit, his lack of self esteem, his unwillingness to stick with a long distance relationship, and his general stupidity. In some funny way, I almost thank them. ALMOST. Not really. Then again, it's those stupid assholes that break our hearts, cheat on us, break us down, and treat us like crap that make us better people. I mean if it weren't for the fact that I had gotten tossed out more times than my grandmother's fruitcake, that I wouldn't be who I am. I mean I think I got a little better every time I got passed over. God that's a fucked up way of putting it.

I guess I have to laugh about it now. I'm dating the nerdiest guy I've ever known. I'm dating someone who has to be so much of me equal and the whole time I've been dating my opposite. I mean he talks and I hear him. I believe that there is such a thing as speaking in a language that others can hear. Every once in a while we find that person that we hear. Maybe I finally have someone that I can hear and he can listen to me. Only time will tell.

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