In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the greatest person out there. I’m a bit bat-shit crazy, definitely a little selfish and am currently working on ways to be even more of a recluse than I already am because I find the majority of people to be annoying. I can count all my “serious” relationships on one hand and my actual adult relationships that involved grown up things like maturity and trust on no hands.
On top of being too picky, or rather obnoxiously picky, like my no white socks rule and a requirement that certain bands be in their top 10 list, I’m also drawn to assholes. It’s actually a talent. In a lovely sea of nice guys, I will want to be with the asshole, the emotionally unattainable one, and the one who will probably cheat on me when I’m eight months preggers should we ever make it that far. I’m no psychic, but I can just see that that’s how it would go down and I’ll end up in my parents’ basement with my kid and the neighbors will call us “Boo One” and “Boo Two.”
So since I’ve had a lot of time recently to re-evaluate my life, the decisions I have made and paths I have chosen, I’ve been able to come to an undeniable fact: I make a shitty girlfriend.
First of all, I’m extremely standoff-ish in person. I have a hard time relating to people in the flesh, and more than likely I won’t be able to stand someone when I first meet them. By the time I finally warm up to his friends (if I ever do), we will more than likely have already broken up. I realize that this character flaw is a defense mechanism, but it’s still something I’ve yet to conquer.
I require lots of alone time. My ideal relationship would be a long distance one, because I’d have my bed to myself and I’d get my necessary and ample amount of “me” time. I live alone for a reason, and it’s not just because everyday is naked day in my apartment but more due to the reality that I just really enjoy doing things on my own. I’m a loner.
I hate to share my people. When I say “my people,” I’m not talking about the cult I’m trying to get started out of my kitchen that’s not taking off for some reason, but I mean my friends and family. I’m much better one on one, so although I like the “idea” of hanging out with someone and other people, too, it just sucks. When I’m with you, I’m with you and don’t want anyone infiltrating our little world of madness. And when I’m not with you, I’ll assume you’re pining away for me waiting for the next time we’ll be together. When I realize that you just might have a life outside of ours, I will be pissed as hell and not understand why I have to share you with others even if I don’t want to be with you all the time.
Which brings us to the bat-shit crazy end of things. I’m a nut. I really am. I fall apart too easily, I have an Irish temper, I’m a hothead, I shoot from the hip, I’m overly opinionated, there’s a good chance I will knee you in the balls at some point and if you fuck me over, I will do my very best to make sure you get it back threefold. Granted, there won’t be any boiling of bunnies or murder or anything like that, but I’ll find a way. Crazy people always find a way.
I will have greater dreams for you than you’ll have for yourself. This is actually something that has been pointed out to me on more than one occasion, and apparently people don’t like it. According to my ex Timothy I wanted more for him than he wanted for himself. He just wanted to paint and be happy and I wanted him to be the next Basquiat; not because I thought he should be rich and famous, but because I truly believed he had the talent to pull it off. I still think he can. Honestly, if you’re one of the few whom I’ve loved, I can guarantee that no one before or after me will believe in you the way I will. That character trait is also why I named my dog Hubbell after Hubbell Gardner in The Way We Were. Watch it, and it will make sense.
I can’t say no to temptation. I’m not saying I’ve ever cheated, but fuck, am I bad at saying “no.”
However, despite these things that add up to me being a shitty girlfriend, I can tell you that if you’re insane enough to take a chance on me and let me into your life, it will have been worth it. You’ll get me at my best and my worst, and probably sometimes all at once. I’ll love you in a do-or-die type of fashion that is usually only reserved for impossible love stories, I will always have your back (even if I’m in the middle of alone time), and I’ll be ridiculously fun, because like I said – I’m kind of a lunatic.
I may not be Marilyn Monroe, but since she did sum it up perfectly:
“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
In other words, even the shittiest of us do have our good moments, even if they are rare and fleeting. But honestly, I’m pretty damn great when I’m at my best; and I know my exes will at least admit to that.