Everyone Dates a Loser

This blog was complete late last night. It took me until now to get the guts to post it. I want to be real, and sometimes real is hard. 

I am 100% certain that everyone dates a loser in their lifetime. If you have only had one serious relationship and are happily married, then I’m sorry. But everyone dates a loser. Though not everyone can say they have only dated losers. Until this point I was that person, and it has paid off ten fold. They have created comic relief and awesome starter stories for past and future friendships. 

But here is the thing about dating losers, you have to look at it in a positive way. Don’t be that girl who talks endlessly about her shitty past. That girl gets drunk at the bar and ends up calling all of them until one sorry son picks up. Don’t be that girl. Be the girl who can laugh about it. Hold a comical grudge and make sure you pound their names and stories into the ground at any cost. Well, not legal cost. But all other cost. 

The thing is, I haven't had that many true relationships, it can be split in half: Two that were real, and two that were not.

My high school boyfriend ended up coming to me years later to be consoled about his "First real relationship" coming to an end. Clearly our year and a half spout was only read about in books with unicorns made of shit. I spent days listening to Taylor Swift on repeat because I was not a princess, and this was the farthest thing from a fairytale. 

My college cutie decided pot was more important than remembering me... at Austin City Limits... in a crowd of 75,000. He peaced out to a car full of dudes and never looked back. He did try to make it up to me with horses, but even this barn freak wasn't buying it. I've never said this, but I would like to thank the friend who told me this guy wasn't good enough for me. He didn't know the words spouted during a concert would change my life, but they forever stayed with me. 

Though these were not the things that truly chalk up to dating losers. No, in the end it is the relationships that were not even real which bring out the best stories, and the best lessons. Because it is those who you fell away from, and those you fall face first into their armpit, that leave you thinking, Everyone Dates a Loser.

PACK IT UP

This one takes the cake for the worst loser I have encountered. Though I knew this guy was a loser when I started dating him so frankly I should have seen it coming. In high school I got involved with a guy who transferred from California. He was kind of a big deal and I wasn’t super fat when he got there so him taking an interest in me didn’t seem all that crazy. 

But, he had a secret. Actually he had a lot of them. If we are being honest, I’m not even sure he was from California. One day CaliBoy asked to borrow my car (he did not have one) to make some cash moving his friends stuff to a new house. I agreed. All ready to help lift some big boxes I pulled up and let him get in. 

“So, where am I dropping you?” he asked scooting me over to the passengers seat.

“Umm, I’m not going with you?”

“There won’t be enough room in the car for anyone but me and the stuff.”

I sat at a Starbucks for hours, and then at a friends house for more hours kind of freaking out. Actually, majorly freaking out because he had my car and, bottom line, I didn’t know a thing about this kid. How was I ever going to explain this to my parents? And could a 16-year-old file a missing car report? He didn’t even have a cell phone!

He finally showed up, car in mint condition, and his friend in the front seat. The seat that “No one would fit in.” A few days later, after him and I had quietly parted ways, this kid I hardly knew came up and told me another secret. 

Turns out CaliBoy took his friend, who was in the front seat, and two random girls out on a date. In my car. The kid who told me worked at the movie theater and said he became suspicious when he noticed the girl wasn’t me, and when he heard CaliBoy tell her the cheerleading sticker on the back of the car was his sisters, and he was “being supportive.” It was my sticker. It was my car.

Sorry mom and dad, I completely agree with any distrust you had in me all throughout my childhood. And perhaps now, since I know you will read this... If I had a kid who gave her car to a random she would be cursed with none other than little blue, the 1993 Pontiac my family held onto for far too long. It now makes sense that the car he took was later totaled, and I drove little blue for a year. 

EVERYONE DATES A LOSER

Up to this point in my life I had a bunch of comical loser encounters, this one is not much different. Though I will preface this story by saying I write this out of complete spite. The boys before are total jokes in my book of stories. They taught me what I needed to know and I moved on. Ironman, however was different. 

My life has revolved around voicing opinions of how relationships suck and true love is found in work. That was until I met Ironman. He was racing the Ironman in Kona and I was going to write a story about him for the Texas Tech news paper. We locked eyes and I melted onto the floor. What better love than that shared over your personal passions? I would forever be the reporter who broke his first story!

I raced home and yelled to my roommates “I HAVE FOUND THE MAN I WILL MARRY!”

Their jaws dropped. 

“He is engaged!”

They closed their mouths. This was just my luck, obviously the man of my dreams would be engaged and I would be left alone, it only made sense. And it did, until he was no longer attached. It didn’t matter that he was only three months out of a broken engagement. He was perfect!

Or so I thought. 

The thing with Ironman was that he wasn’t over his ex. I’m still not sure if he just didn’t know it, or if I was too blind to see it. We broke up a few weeks into dating, and I was crushed. It should be noted here that when my past relationships ended I didn’t give them a second thought. With him, I did. I laid on the couch for weeks. Eating a piece of toast a day and crying. I was worse than the plague and too wrapped up in my own self loathing to even see it.

So when Ironman came back in my life it was evident we would be together forever. Honestly, I was talking life long commitment here. I was smitten for this guy. But as time went on things started to die. Where he was once telling me about the two story closet he would build in our Colorado house (a long time dream of mine. The closet not the house) he was now ignoring my text and phone calls. 

He came back into town from a summer internship early. It was the day of my graduation. He said he couldn’t come because he was too busy. It’s one thing to miss a dinner, but your graduation? Come on. I’ve only worked the majority of my life for this piece of rolled up paper, but you need to clip your toenails? Of course that makes sense. Don’t cut too close, wouldn’t want you to bleed to death. 

We met the next day and he was super clingy. Hugging me, rubbing my feet, kissing my forehead. I mentioned liking what we were. He said we were not thinking the same thing and I asked if I was good enough. 

“Not right now.”

That was it. I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough when I made him food, or followed him to races, and held all of his stuff, or watched that show with dragons and naked girls every Sunday. That was a horrible show. I just wasn’t good enough when I let my guard down to someone who was fully capable of saying all these romantic things. I was standing in a pile of poop and the only thing I could do was leave. 

I can laugh about it now and see how we would have never worked anyways. I mean come on, I’m 5’2 and he’s 6’10. My head hit below his belly button. It was at lint level. And honestly, if I had to see him in those running shorts one more time I was going to die. They are not real shorts, nor are they underwear, and in no circumstance should they double as both. 

Neither Ironman or CaliBoy and I were meant to be together, but that doesn’t mean they didn't happen. It doesn't meant you stop asking those questions of why you really were not good enough. We need those relationships that were sick jokes. And we need that one relationship that lingers. We need the guy who says sorry and never looks back. We need him because once we find the guy who doesn’t do that we won’t take him for granted. 

My life has been full of losers, but eventually that trouble ends. It took me a high school sucker, a pot head, CaliBoy, and Ironman to see what a good relationship is. I spent a really long time looking for someone I could help and that would help me in return, but that isn’t what you need in a relationship. You need a friend. Someone who cares about your feelings and has their own feelings too.

I spent all of those relationships trying to please the guy who didn’t think a second about pleasing me. I hushed the hurt and the anger because I knew bringing up my disappointment would open up the floor for them to say they didn't really like me. I would have rather been in a relationship with someone who didn't like me than have to face real feelings. 

I promise all of you, that one day you will find the person who isn't scared of your feelings. But, until then remember the losers, they are great companions. They make you stronger. Or, if nothing else you can collect a lot of them and write about it.