If I have one skill it is being a professional hermit. Is that an actual thing? Not sure. It’s very real to me. I’m pretty known for going off the map and disappearing into the anti-social abyss. I’m no Serena Vanderwoodsen but unless you follow me on twitter (yea, the excessive tweets will never stop) I can be pretty hard to track down at times. It seems I’ve fallen into this recurring cycle where I need to hide away in my parents quaint little retirement town every six months or so and recollect my thoughts. I blame it on my Sun and Moon signs both being water signs, Cancer and Scorpio respectively. Likely, it’s more of a general character flaw I actually have control over but hey, what’s astrology for if not to blame your flaws? My point being that I am very comfortable in my alone in my cozy shell away from other human beings. Humans, blah!
Despite my recluse tendencies, I made a decision late 2017 that I was going to focus on personal growth and that started with prying myself out of my cave and into the real world with other… humans…
“WE GET IT YOU’RE A HERMIT WHATS THE POINT!?” – you right now
Along with general social interaction I decided it was in my best interest to maybe-possibly-one-day-maybe-if possible-maybe be open to the idea of the big L word.
Losers.
Loser, shithead boys.
OK no, I meant love. But what I found was a loser shithead boy. Don’t worry, no love.
Pursing my new goal of leaving the house, I opted to go out for some drinks with my sister and her friends. Her friends are lovely and incredibly welcoming but towards the end of the night I was feeling low-key dead and was sitting at a table on the side of the dance floor while they danced it out to “My Neck, My Back” by Khia. The table had a bit of a revolving door. Lots of friends-of-friends, coming and going. A couple of mid-twenties guys sat down and started up conversation. We had a bunch of things in common, one of them had spent some time playing hockey in my hometown and the conversation between all of us flowed naturally but particularly with the one who will come to be known as Loser Shithead Boy.
I spent the rest of the night getting to know Loser Shithead Boy (or so I thought?) He bought me a drink and we chatted about who we are, where we’re from and so on. We hit it off right away. Same sense of humour, same mannerisms, same awkward habits. What really sold me on the idea of him was that he mentioned that he felt like we had met before when we both knew we hadn’t. Quick back-story here: in the spring prior, a psychic had told me that a male I was close with in a past-life was looking for me and would find me in the Okanagan. She said there would be a sign that it was him, I would know. Weird, where was I the night I met Loser Shithead Boy who said he felt like we knew each other? The Okanagan! Of course, this is where I live so it was no coincidence but those damn psychics get in your head. 10/10 would not recommend that psychic.
It wasn’t until we were in the bar parking lot holding hands while he fed me some delicious poutine (adorable, BLAH) that he finally asked for my number. It was like 3am at this point.
Me: “It’s about damn time!”
I actually said that. Eternally single, I’m calling it now.
It was the weekend before Halloween and I’m a firm believer in not waiting around for boys to ask you on dates. Waiting three days, how retro? No thanks. I invited him to my Halloween outing the following day and to no surprise to me, he and his friends came along. We spent that entire night side by side. I’ve neglected to mention I had a recently broken my foot and was hobbling around in an abnormally disproportionate medical boot so hanging out with me actually required effort and intension because my ability to keep up with the group was pretty pathetic. He stuck around. He bought me another drink. He let his friends leave without him. We both did. We went for poutine, round two! Once we reconnected with the group at the end of the night his friends were staying out and he chose to walk home with my friends and I. Again, he stuck around. He got along with my sister and cracked jokes about her sass. What is this? Someone I would actually consider getting to know? Can’t be. Even my sister was shocked by our natural connection. This shit is new to me. What it really was? Narcissism. I’m getting to that.
“BUT WHY IS HE A LOSER SHITHEAD, IM LOST.” – currently you
We continued texting and snapping, for the next two or three weeks. Our conversations were natural and flirty, well flirty enough considering it’s me and I don’t actually know what that word means and I am incapable of the action of flirting. The only red flag for me was that I couldn’t find him on social media. I found his Instagram but it was on private and after two weeks of talking he didn’t accept my request. Our plans to meet in person had been falling through more and more frequently and he always had a last minute excuse. I legitimately went through a box of daily contact lenses that month because I anticipated a date at any moment. Like I said, I know my worth and I’m not one to wait around for boys and he was beginning to smell like Loser Shithead from miles away. It was time to investigate.
Let me cut to the chase here. He had a girlfriend. In Michigan. A girlfriend. In the United States. A girlfriend. In another country.
I was ranting to my roommate endlessly about how weird the situation was. He was really persistent in showing interest with words but never took action. I deserve action. She looked him up from her phone. What a concept, why didn’t we think of this the first time I couldn’t find him on Facebook? Optimism? General belief that most people are good? Sure enough, there he was. With his girlfriend. All over his Facebook.
Loser Shithead Boy had blocked me on Facebook the night we had met. Essentially proving to me that first of all, yea, I am totally cool and you would have to have a shady reason to continuously ditch me. Second of all, disproving the point that he would later try to make, saying his only intensions were to make friends, when I call him out on his bullshit. You don’t block people you are trying to be friends with. As it turned out he didn’t block anyone else he had met that night so no, you were not making friends buddy. His intensions were clear and I find it interesting and a little soul crushing that weak men think they can tell women they are out of line or make them sound crazy. So many girls let themselves believe it to be true. We both knew what it was. Nothing happened between us physically but I’m a firm believer that cheating even on a mental level without taking action, is still cheating. I told him off and he went on about how he didn’t know what I was talking about. He didn’t deny the girlfriend because that would’ve been pretty impossible with how clear their relationship was online but he did say I was completely off base with what his intentions were with me.
I was compelled by a strong moral obligation to message his girlfriend what I had experienced. I debated back and forth as to if it was my place and waited a few hours until I was in a mentality where her reaction wouldn’t fuck with my head any further. By the time I sent the message it was probably 2am in Michigan so her response didn’t come until the following morning. I made clear that nothing physical had happened and my only intent was to inform her as I felt it was the right thing to do. She was incredibly thankful and gracious. She told me this wasn’t the first time and to never feel like it wasn’t my place to inform her. GIRL PWR!
I do believe the two are still together and I hold no judgement to her. I firmly believe that everyone has their own threshold for bullshit and maybe the two have some sort of understanding that I’m not aware of. I didn’t get those vibes but you really never know what people are going through and I would have no grounds to question her decision to stay.
After processing the whirlwind that was a near month of dealing with Loser Shithead Boy, my first response was the common “Why me?” “Why can’t I just meet someone genuine?” “Fuck you, Universe!” when I expressed these rightful but childish complaints to my sister she suggested that maybe it was something that happened to me because I am one of the few girls who would’ve reached out to the girlfriend. Well there. My ego felt a lot better. Thank, sis. I’m thinking now that maybe there’s no reason. I would hope that all or most girls would work up the nerve to tell the girlfriend even knowing that he would deny and make them sound “crazy”. I don’t really believe that things happen TO you for any particular reason. Maybe what we learn from is our reactions to the situations that are imposed upon us. Maybe life is just full of shit for everyone but your reaction is what creates your story. I decided that the only way this situation could be made into anything less than me helping a girl out by exposing her Loser Shithead Boy(friend), would be if I let it scare me off from my new goal.
So here I am, still ISO the real L word.
FEMME RIOT 