My friend tagged me in a Meme on Instagram this weekend.
It read: “Remember, it doesn’t matter how much you think he likes you. He doesn’t like you that much if you’re still single.”
Blunt, honest, and truuuu.
It got me thinking about my life. I know I was tagged in it because of how a certain boy feels – or doesn’t feel – about me. But, it also made me realize how I feel – or don’t feel – about other people. People I thought I liked, that clearly like me, who I’m not dating. Which brought me to the idea of complication. The more I think about it, the more I think “it’s complicated” is a phrase we use to describe things that, in reality, make complete sense. They don’t look the way we want them to, so we pretend they’re hard to understand. Pretend we’re still trying to figure them out. Pretend they aren’t horseshit. Pretend anything so other people don’t judge us. In my twenty-eight years, here’s what I’ve learned: most things aren’t that hard to understand. Geometry, maybe. Relationships? No. There is – usually – a pretty clear black & white. He likes you, or he doesn’t. There shouldn’t be this thing we’re calling a situationship. There shouldn’t be girls, or boys, sticking it out because maybe some day…. And I think more people (ahem, me) need to accept whats actually going on, and quit pretending things are complicated when they’re actually just dumb.
Now, I am not so naive that I don’t recognize relationships can be complicated. I know that they can, and most of the time, are. There are in-laws, and work schedules, and diseases, and opposing viewpoints to figure out. There are bills to pay, and shows to watch, and what the hell are we having for dinner? But you know what all complicated relationships have in common? They’re actual relationships. They’re solid, two-sided, moving-forward-together relationships. They aren’t two people hanging out with no intention of determining where (or if) things are headed down the road. They aren’t sex, sex, sex. They aren’t scattered texts & FaceTime calls when someone is bored. These things are not complicated. These things are simple, but horrifying, so we choose to ignore how naive we’re acting so that we can remain feeling happy – even if only briefly.
Well, I’m over it.
I’m over pretending my convuliated love life is healthy. Over pretending that I’m interested for the sake of having someone to talk to. Over pretending that one day he’s going to wake up & realize he does love me. Over pretending I can get over his small car, pudgy stomach, old-age, weird laugh, stinky breath, Donald Trump love. What’s that saying? “You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world but there’s still going to be somebody who hates peaches.”
Stop glorifying inconsiderate behaviors; it’s not complicated.