Ever since I can remember, I've had a penchant for dumb scmucks. Only thing was that I had no idea I was into dumb schmucks until someone brought it to my attention only recently. One of my good friends insisted that I like dumb schmucks because it allows me to blame someone besides myself when it all goes to hell. I don't know what she's talking about, seeing as I never am to blame, but I tried to be a good adult and actually listen and learn. I thought about the last few guys I've involved myself with and it wasn't pretty. In fact, I am a bit worried at my selection. I gotta do better.
The Friends W/ Bennies. Many of you probably remember the whole FWB story I told over the summer, but a lot had happened before we got to the sexytime point. In the earlier chapters of our relationship, I had a major crush on him, as did he for me, except it was never quite enough to get together properly. Instead we'd pretend to be friends, while having these long discussions about how to make it work beyond friendship. It was really altogether tiresome and meanwhile I'd get an ear full about how tormented he was in life. That should've been a sign in itself. But somehow we hung in there and after many mushy, crying, "I think I'm in love with you" arguments, I gave up and told him to let me know when he was done playing angst-ridden, problem-laddened card. Then we complicated things by sleeping together and the rest is in blog history.
The Unexpected. I met this next guy through friends and while I ended up dating him for a few months, I knew early on that he was probably going to be trouble. Not because he was a bad guy, actually he was the exact opposite. In contrast to the drive me crazy and make cry bad boys, The Unexpected caught me off guard with his knack for making me laugh and being a genuinely nice guy. We had a good time together, but when he- out of nowhere- decided he needed a break, I was surprised, but not overtly so. Having had a large amount of talks about his past, it was his pattern to get into pseudo-relationships that only lasted a few months and then jump out of them citing that he wasn't ready to let go of the single life. Funny as from the day we met, I told him I was in the same place. I guess the difference was that he all but convinced me to jump ship...only to leave me out to sea. But I knew all this about him ahead of time and yet I still jumped in the water without so much as a pair of floaties.
The Nice Guy. Oh The Nice Guy. Damn, did I like him. He was perfect on paper-great job, great education, great family, great house-and perfect in real life. He is still one of my top 3 best first dates of all time and I knew after that first date that there would be more to come. And there was. Eventually I started getting introduced to friends who'd say, "Oh, I've heard so much about you" with big smiles on their faces. I was welcomed into his life and I was super excited to let him into mine. But unbeknownst to me, apparently there was an ex-girlfriend lurking, some business that was unfinished and when he started to disappear, I was left wondering what happened. A little while later, I got a phone call from him. He told me about the ex who had made a comeback, they had history, he had to give it a shot, did I understand that it was just a matter of timing, he really liked me, blah blah. Of course I understood. I understood, he was a complete moron. And while I'd love to say I learned a lot from that situation-ie getting closer to what I want in a man, I did use a couple boxes of Kleenex on Nice Guy. But let me rewind to when I first started seeing signs of a non-glittery paradise. I was pretending to stifle my innate sexual nature by making all the guys I was dating wait. The Nice Guy was at the top of the list, so he stood the highest chance of getting some when I decided I'd had enough waiting. He swore he understood, but I secretly think he had issue with it. I found out later that he was quite the ladies man in college. A little factoid that would've been nice to know considering we had so many friends in common.
The Disaster. This one was completely my own fault. I blame boredom. When B gets bored, bad people happen. I knew this guy from college, but we'd never really been friends. I ran into him at a party, I was sort of heart broken from The Unexpected, so I decided the best way to get over him was to get under The Disaster. And my god, was it a disaster. It started off harmless until he didn't answer a text or something one night. Now, considering I was all kinds of not trusting dudes, it red flagged me. So the next time he hit me, I ignored him. I was already thinking it had run it's course anyway. I was honestly only in it for the great sex, but then one night he called and I acquiesced. Sorry, I have needs too. He ended up drunkenly telling me he loved me and jacking up all our jump off-esque rules. Damnit. I can do no feelings or lots of feelings. Not so good at the gray in between. While I was deciding if I could actually date him in real life, he decided to go out of town and not tell me or answer my phone calls (well let's be real, I only called once). When he got back we called it off, whatever there was to call off. The thing about The Disaster was that he was so not worth it and yet I engaged because it was entertaining and fun. And it did serve it's purpose: I got over The Unexpected with flying colors. But the point was that I knew stuff about Disaster going in. Stuff that made me know it was going to be, well, a disaster and the whole time I was thinking of calling it off, I never did, until it was off.
The Down Low. Not the gay-on-the-side kind, the nobody-knows kind. I started talking to DL during The Disaster, but since Disaster meant very little, I had no problem engaging DL. He was the smart, nerdy kind, which was an absolute jump outside the box for me. But not to be fooled by the book's cover, DL had done some dirt in his past. He'd cheated on his girlfriend quite a bit in college, a fact I knew from the grapevine and eventually from his admittance. That should've been my warning, but ever the second-chance giver, I listened to him lament the mistakes he made, blah blah blah. When I tell you everything was fine-despite the residual drama with Disaster (which I really don't want to go into because he and it are stupid)-until one day we just stopped talking. I'm pretty sure he stopped talking to me though. Still have no clue what he's up to. Maybe he got back with his girlfriend. Dunno. But the whole time, the one friend who knew about our situation(and knew him) adamantly told me to leave him alone. Warned me that he hid behind the nice, dorky guy bit, only to end up being a nice, dorky dick in the end.
The Youngin. Against all my previous swearing off of dealing with guys under twenty-five, I somehow ended up with one. I've known him for a while, had always thought he was cute, but never really took him seriously. Fast forward a bunch of years, enough time for him to age a bit and for me to not feel like a pedophile, and flash, bam, alakazam, I was kicking it to a 24 year old. Sooo not cool. No, he's a really sweet guy, but he's just all over the place, wildly inconsistent, and incredibly frustrating. But there's something so cute about him. I'm still deciding how much I like him or if he'll just be another story to tell. But I knew he was young when I met him, knew he was young when I engaged him beyond simple friendship, so once again, I'm walking right into whatever young dude mess he plans to work up.
So there's the last five or six guys I've dealt with, give or take a few who I don't want to include because they'll mess up the bad track record I'm trying to show here. Actually, it's funny, the ones not included were nice guys, good guys, probably with no bullsh*t, but instead I left them twiddling their thumbs for fear of being bored. As I said, I gotta do better. Any ideas?
That bitch stole my line,
xoxo
Blackie Collins
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