Friday, April 6, 2001

I have come to the decision that I am incapable of being in a serious relationship. I made this declaration sitting on Tina's bed last night. Looking back at my "serious" relationships (in quotes because nothing has ever lasted longer than 6 months) I realized that the men usually resent me or have some God awful complex concerning how I've made them what they are today.

I make men hate me!

Is this some sort of Freudian thing...like...I'm repeating my childhood of rejection by sabotoging my relationships so that men will innevitably hate me? Am I really this crazy? Much crazier than previously suspected? God I hope not.

Okay, so what do I mean by men resenting me. Let's take a little journey, shall we?

I'll start with Matt, he was the first boyfriend that I actually felt like I had a seriously committed relationship, and he's the first boyfriend that didn't cheat on me. By the end of our relationship he blamed me for his drug addiction (a fact I haven't even shared with my mother, so keep it hush-hush), his inability to find a good job, his lack of self-esteem (which he actually had way before I entered his life) and like a whole slew of new complexes. He's moved to Florida now. I broke his heart because I simply could not be his girlfriend anymore...he was proudly walking down the path to Loserville and I knew I was WAY better than him. I lost respect for Matt, poor thing. The final breaking point was when I told him that because we were not a couple we should probably stop touching eachother in a romantic way (i.e. I need my personal space back). He chose to ignore my ultimatum and flagrantly invaded my personal space (Milton even noticed it and said something). After being so offended by his gesture, I told him that I didn't want to set eyes or ears on him for 2-3 months. He obliged me, tried to contact me again (which I simply wrote letters to him...they were friendly letters, I promise). During this time I found out about his loser lifestyle. Addicted (willingly) to drugs, dating underaged girls, working a shitty job... he tried to beg me to be in his life again. I decided not too. Now he resents me.

God, what a LOSER I am for being with him...but what a SMARTY I was for leaving.

Anthony, my little psychotic knome. I can't explain why this boy was in my life other than temporary insanity. He tried to break up with me every week, and every week I refused to leave him, stating, "We aren't breaking up because I'm not done with you or this relationship." When I was done (which was an inevitability) I told him that he could totally see this coming. I mean, technically we'd broken up like 8 times before. But he stated that "Like, I'm beyond in love with you. I am like totally wanting to work on a relationship" (imagine a cliche surfer accent and that's what it sounded like). I told him No, that he was moving to Ohio or Utah or wherever and that I had no interest in continueing the charade that was our relationship. He called me names, told me shut-up, hung up and recalled me and told me he loved me, sent me his hair (which registeres high on the freaky scale) and wrote me hateful love letters (you know the stuff: "I hate you for loving me I hate you because I love you I hate you because you make life hard.")To this day I still have fond memories of Anthony...if that is his real name...and look upon the relationship as somewhat successful.

But successful in and of itself. The relationship could never have existed outside the boundries of the summertime, of the apartment he lived in, of the circumstances. When the boundries changed, the relationship ended.

And Anthony probably hates me right now. Resents me.

Why am I always the bad guy? But then what is the alternative? Being the victim? Being the person shit on in the relationship? I've been there and done that...no thank you, ma'am. If relationships are war then I want to be victorious, not defeated.

And yet, in a sense, there are no winners in a relationship that ends. No victors in the failure of a unit...of an experiment. Isn't that what dating is? Observation: that man is cute, successful, what have you. Hypothesis: That man and I will get along and make a good couple. Experiment: Dating, sex, conversation. Conclusion: That man was a piece of shit.

That's it! I've found the answers...I know it all now. And I choose to bow out for awhile. I've been on several dates since the heady encounter in Vegas with Aaron. I've decided its not for me.

But maybe I'm just in a bad mood. I've been so hypersensitive lately. The non-romantic relationships in my life (other than family) are so tentative. The rules are changing once again. The circumstances of life have been altered and now relationships are tried. I hate this part of life.

My first inclination: Drive to Alaska and start a new life. There is plenty of work and I could rent a room. I've never done anything so crazy. Maybe I should...then again who am I kidding. I plan my adventures, "So, first I'll email all my friends to let them know where I'm going. Then we'll have lunch...then we'll drive towards the sunset. Stopping half-way there to check the oil." Yes, spontinaity is not my strongest quality.

Going back to the pitty parade that is my love life. I find it so hard to believe that I could even be very romantic. My self-image is that of a kooky, excentric, chubby red-head. How could anyone find me the least bit worthy of romantic gestures?

See how low self-esteem will get you no where. I hate myself for not having high self-esteem (that's a joke, folks).

Okay let me find some good news...

My mother bought another dog. That brings the official tally to EIGHT DOGS!!! That's right, everyone, I occupy a house with eight dogs and a cat. The new dog, Jello, is a real sweety. Very cute, spunky, fun and loving. Just what Mommy needed in her life. EIGHT DOGS!

Why is my life turning into a subplot for a Neil Simon play?

Congrats to Michelle and Eric on their eventual nuptual. I'm a bridesmaid, you know. Kinda neat being in someone's wedding. Thanks for the chance!

Also, congrats to Audriana and Joe on their baby's healthy birth. Ian Micheal...haven't laid eyes on the lad but from what Audriana tells me...he's happy and healthy.

Okay, will go now. Happy Easter!

Smooches,

Chelsea

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