I got dumped this week. One day you’re all dumb and happy
and getting gifts of pee strips. Then, before you know it, see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya.
Let me give you the rundown of my dating history. I posted
a bunch of horrifying things yesterday, why stop there?
- In kindergarten, a boy kissed me on the shoulder at the cubbies every day. I realize this does not count as a relationship but sometimes I wish things were still that simple. Plus, he was totally the hottest kid in our class. High five!
- My friends set me up with a boy in middle school (I was also in middle school, pervs). We talked on the phone a few times and held hands at a high school football game. Then we just stopped talking to each other. I realize this one doesn’t count either, but this is my blog.
- A boy stood in a tree at my cousin’s house and yelled my name because he was pining (pining – in a tree – lol) for me. This one never had any hope of counting but I couldn’t resist that whole pining thing.
- I started dating someone near the end of high school and spent the next 4.5 years with him. There were lots of ups and downs. After we broke-up, I built a house and didn’t date again for two years.
- I had a short but intense relationship with a guy. After we broke-up, I bought a car and got back into the dating scene rather quickly.
- This time, I wanted to date around a little bit (not synonymous with sleeping around). My personal best: four dates with four different dudes in one week (one named Forrest – I was willing to change Jen to Jenny, but one date was more than plenty). This period helped me realize that casual dating really wasn’t that much fun and I was no longer interested in dating unless it was with someone who wanted more than a kissy-face movie buddy. Social anxiety + meeting new men all the time = torture.
- Now here I am. Dumped by the one I thought was just right for me. The one I thought was so different from the others. I can’t afford to build another house. I can’t afford to buy another car. I’m definitely a retail therapy kind of girl. Apparently when my heart hurts, it wants to drop some serious dough. But. The economy is peeved and when the economy ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. I do need something else to love though. And that something else is, drumroll please…
Any advice for the brokenhearted? (Unless it's "you'll find someone one day". Single people hate hearing that.)
