Might As Well Face It You're Addicted To...

We all know the standard addictions; drugs, alcohol, sex, diet coke… however, it’s the addictions that aren’t as obvious that truly hold us back. If we could recognize them, we’ve taken the first step to recovery. A few months ago, I encountered a young man who suggested that I might be addicted to rejection. I hadn’t ever considered the possibility of that even being an addiction. I hadn’t fully understood what he meant, but today, I think I finally understand. And, today, I think I agree with that young man. As many of you know or are beginning to notice, I have a tendency to preemptively strike a prospective love interest with the question of, “do you fucking like me or what?” I never even gave the sucker a chance to like me. Eddie, the owner of the deli next door, tells me a guy has to have nothing “here”, and he points to his temple, to not like me (maybe he’s right or maybe he likes that I keep him in business with my diet coke consumption). Well, since I typically wouldn’t be attracted to a man who has nothing up “there,” there must be another explanation. It could be / can be a combination of things. I’m not attractive enough, thin enough, interesting enough, quiet enough… and now a new one, didn’t give him enough time… gave the ultimatum right off the bat. And I can see why it’s addictive. When you start to like someone, you have this immediate rush of emotion. When you lay it on the line for the guy, “hey like me or not,” and you get a “no,” although it’s not what you want to hear, it’s still an immediate rush of counter-feelings. It’s that immediate passion and pain. Give me the passion and give me the pain. I seem to love it, live for it. But as I’ve experienced an abundance of “pain” (pain is of course relative… this pain is rather small in the whole scheme of things) I realize that pain accrued overtime, doesn’t feel so hot. It just isn’t a funny story anymore. Granted I’ve dished out my bit of pain to a boy here and a boy there, but those emotions don’t stick with you… you want to nip those feelings in the bud. You always remember getting dumped or rejected. Moral of the story… someone please shoot me, when I act too fast. Remind me that I need to give the brotha’ a chance to like miss curious / miss april / miss goofy girl.