Yep, fucked up the situation with the girl. How, you may be asking. Well, I'm here to explain in detail my fall from grace. Aren't you all lucky?
No. No, we are not lucky.
First, let me establish the background...
She and I were not a couple. Pretty simple, right. I mean, we had feelings for each other, but by no means were we in a committed relationship. You know, we were dating.
Go on...
So, what are the rules of dating? You can date more than one person at a time, and why not? You aren't in a committed relationship with anyone... it's a little thing called being single. Hell, you can fuck whomever and whatever you want, right? That's fine because you aren't in a committed relationship. If one of the people you are dating finds out about another one of the people you're dating and gets mad, you have the right to say "HEY, FUCK OFF! WE AREN'T TOGETHER! I DON'T BELONG TO YOU!"
Well... I kinda forgot about that... what's worse is I found out after these two had stopped dating, so it wasn't even relevant... And I kinda was a dick.
WHAT ARE YOU, LON?! ALLERGIC TO HAPPINESS?!
By the way, this was a sure thing, too. We were going to spend some "time" at my place, and then talk about our relationship. All I needed to do was keep my shit together for two days. TWO DAYS. I was going to get sweet sweet booty and establish some sort of relationship with this girl.
So, what could possibly have gone through my mind... Weeeeeell, part of me needs to accept a few facts about myself. "What are getting at, Lon?" Hear me out... I have ADHD- I know, I know, it's over-diagnosed, and some say it's not a real thing, but hear me out. I ran out of meds on Wednesday. You see, part of me was curious to see what would happen. My doctor appointment was on Friday, so I just had to make it one day. How hard could that be?...
Well, it wasn't bad at first. It was a decent day, actually. I got to have lunch with this girl, and I was really happy. I went to class, taught, and that went well, too. Then, I found out about the other guy after class. Usually, I can hear information, deal with it logically, and not get too anxious about it (the other thing I have in an anxiety disorder, so it's important for me to do this because my medicine for that only goes so far.). Since, my concentration was all fucked up, that proved to be very difficult. By very difficult... I mean im-fucking-possible. It isn't that I can't concentrate without my medicine; it's that I can't choose what I concentrate on. Because I can't take my mind off of bothering news, I can't rationally think about it; I can't pause to allow different perspectives. What I said wasn't too bad. I brought up some concern, and she told me not to think too much on it. (Whatta bitch, amiright?)
The next day, my concentration was shit. The medicine from Wednesday was completely out of my system. I went to my psychiatrist appointment and struggled to put thoughts together; then, I felt like an idiot for struggling so hard, raising my anxiety and making me more nervous. Being nervous doesn't really allow one to concentrate all that well, so my thoughts got more jumbled. You know what we call that? A shitstorm.
Just pretend the sharks are giant pieces of poo.
Luckily, I got my prescription... by the way, three months of this medicine is $90. In America, at half price, it is $500...
Anyway, where was I? Uhhhh... Oh, yeah... so, I took my medicine, but I was still emotionally shook up. I needed to give the medicine time to take effect, so I could figure out what was going on and lower my anxiety... So, as you can imagine, that didn't happen. In hindsight, I'm like "yeah, duh, bruh... should've been patient," but that's the thing; I could only focus on my intense emotions and anxiety. All I wanted to do is to make those feelings stop, so I followed impulse. That means telling her that I don't want to see her, and I know the truth, and I should never have been with her. You know, typical Friday afternoon behavior that you do to people you are developing intense feelings for.
"But, your problem went away when your meds kicked in, right?"
No, you silly bastard. No, they did not.
You see, all my thoughts seemed legitimate. I had to basically spend some time dealing with the all the errors in the "backlog" (it's a metaphor... see what I did there). At that point, I was also sorta panicking because I needed to fix all the stupid things I did, which makes the the fixing not very effective because I was still sorting out my thoughts and feelings. Luckily, sleep allowed me to do a majority of the sorting as well as talking with friends here... but mostly, sleep to be honest.
I've done my best now to set things right, but there is a chance that it's broken beyond repair. That's alright, though. What else can I do? Time will tell. So, let's move on to the internal turmoil...
YOU SHUT YOUR WHOREMOUTH!
So, I'm Puerto Rican... remember?... good... and we have this thing called "machismo." Basically, it's kinda like bushido (the samurai code of honor... "NERRRRRRRRRD"), but it's way sillier and less self-embowelment-happy. Essentially, it about always having a manly reputation...
An example.
Carlos: Only women drink mixed drinks.
Juan: Pshhhh, I don't drink no mixed drinks. I don't even drink straight liquor. That shit's for patos [gay men],brodel [bro].
*Carlos and Juan proceed to huff gasoline in the garage for twelve hours out pure manliness.*
Now, in the above example, did Juan and Carlos really want to huff gasoline? No... Carlos wanted a Sex-on-the-Beach, and Juan wanted Carlos to watch him jerk off, but that shit isn't manly, so they do stupid shit they perceive as manly.
So, the biggest insult to one's manhood is to have horns.
You callin' me a bitch, bro?
No, not literal horns. Having horns (cornudo) means your girl sleeps with other men. That is why, in Puerto Rico, cabrón is an insulting word for a man. Mexico doesn't use it like that, and so, it is weird... sorry, Mexico, but all of us have brought you here because we all agree that you need to get your shit together.
What is a cabrón, then? Well, a cabro is a goat. Goats have horns. A cabrón is a really big goat... and really big goats have really big horns. Sorry to any of my goat-readers... I'm sure your wives are faithful.
So, my first thought when finding out about the other dude she was dating was that I was a cabrón in the eyes of my peers. I know some of my American (read: white) readers won't really get this concept, but to everyone else, reputation within a community is important. Yes, be a free spirit and don't give a damn what others think, but that comes at a price. You sacrifice communal support for individualism, and that has it's own problems. It's only awesome when you have money and success, but when you have shit luck, you're on your own, buddy.
It was a very real feeling, though. I knew it was silly, but it's hard to shake that shit off, especially when you combine the unmedicated part.
It didn't take long for me to realize that I was being an idiot. This is a different kind of feeling that I'm sure all of us can relate to. We've all done dumb shit that we wish we could take back. Just think for a moment... Yes, that thing... Embarrassing, isn't it?... Sure, only you and hamster know the truth of that intimate evening together. But the hamster's dead now, and you have to carry that burden. May God have mercy on your soul.
(side note: please don't fuck hamsters)
Now, what I don't want is anyone telling me "Oh, I'm sorry, man... that sucks," or "Don't worry, there are other fish in the sea," or anything else like that. There is nothing wrong with my experience. There is nothing to be sorry for. There is nothing to worry about. Everything will be okay. I believe that. If you learned something, cool. I'm all for "Gee, Lon... I never saw it that way... Maybe, I shouldn't fuck hamsters." I'm totally fine with that. If you hope things work out for me, well, thanks then. I am going to assume you aren't a dick who feeds off of others suffering, so it's a given that you want what's best for me.
Part of this post was therapy for me. I'm glad I could share it with the world... and by the world, I mean the few friends I have that read this. You're welcome. Now, I gotta proofread this shit before I publish it, so while I do that, here's a couple of neat snapchat experiences.
So, that's all for now. I'll be back next week...
I need a catchphrase...
Don't go fucking hamsters...
For a second, I thought I could do a weekly catchphrase, but a weekly catchphrase to a weekly blog is just a random sentence at the end of each post.
Fuck catchphrases.
I'm gonna go do shit now...
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