Why I Hate Dating and Dating Hates Me
Here’s a new possible title for my autobiography: DATING: The Reason My Youth and Sexuality Were Squandered and I’m Writing A Book Instead of Getting Laid. Too long?
Readers, dating is not the most important thing in the world. I know, you know it, and even characters that hardly existed apart from their love lives like Carrie Bradshaw knew it. But sometimes, when all you’re asking from the world is to get laid by a beautiful queer woman, it can feel like the entire universe is uniting for the single purpose of making sure every queer woman on the planet stays as far away from you as possible….so, pretty important stuff.
In spite of knowing the ridiculousness of that overly dramatic statement, it might actually be true. So far I’m striking out left and right (yep, even when they swipe right) on Tinder and I’m starting to make lists of every shitty thing I’ve ever done so I can discover what I did to piss Karma off so badly. Last semester dating seemed so easy: a guy would message me, and I’d message back if I felt he might be fuck-worthy. And then if he played his cards right, it’d actually happen. But this semester I’m more interested in dating women rather than men, and I seem to suck at it.
It’s like being thirteen all over again. How do you flirt with them? How do you know if you’re being too forward or too shy? How do you get them to know you don’t want to date them for a 100 years, you just want to hang out a few times?
My experiences dating women have been very brief. There was my relationship with Jessie when he identified as a woman, there was a date to the Rocky Horror Picture Show with one girl from Tinder who I never texted back, a concert with Miranda where we had a hot make out session, and another date from Tinder a few weeks ago where the girl talked forever and we had zero chemistry. I’ve never really fallen into a dating mode with women—all of my experience was brief, or a legit relationship. So basically, I’m screwed.
Look, I love Jessie. But Jessie gets to fuck women and that other guy I’m seeing gets to fuck other women and dammit I’m just sitting here twiddling my thumbs like, “Let me tell you the story of when I was actually found attractive and dateable…” I know I’m attractive. I know I’m a catch. I know I can be fantastic at sex. But sometimes you just want to be validated for christ’s sake! Where are the people who will actually fuck me?!? When did I suddenly grow a horn in the middle of my forehead?!?
I don’t mind waiting around for the day Jessie will actually decide to come back and be with me. I don’t mind putting in the work to talk to him and maintain some sort of relationship while he goes off and fucks other people. I don’t mind driving to see that one guy I hang out with and letting him fuck me while he’s goes off and does whatever he wants when I’m not around. I don’t mind being by myself all the time and knowing that I won’t have a legitimate relationship with someone for several more months. But what I mind is the idea of just sitting around reminiscing about the days before Fred cheated on me and Jessie moved to a whole separate country. I don’t want to be mopey and sad and constantly pity myself. I want to be young and enjoy the freedom to do whatever the hell I want with whoever the hell I want! SO WHAT IS THE PROBLEM, WORLD?!?!
Why does everyone I love seem to want different things, and leave me in a place where I even have to ask these stupid questions?
(Final Note: This is a rant session. This is ridiculous and hormone-fueled and the result of a very stressful week. Just remember not to take it too seriously, ok? Please don’t judge me too harshly… *Sigh*)