I don't care anymore. I really don't. I am finally realizing that I don't say enough of what's on my mind, and that I should stop being so courteous. I always have to keep to myself, and it's frustrating. It's part of the reason I'm 31 and people still talk down to me like I'm their kid, and why some want to insult my intelligence. It's time I showed I have at least half a brain.
Anyway...
I have a confession to make. I went on Donnie O'Connor's Facebook profile.* Again. For the hundredth time. I don't know why I keep going to his profile--I guess I'm trying to make sense of my rejector, trying to figure out how someone could be so cold as to ignore someone for seeing light in him where others don't. Really, he ought to be thankful. I guess he doesn't know how to be so.
I looked at his pictures of Rome. They weren't the best pictures, but they were of somewhere other than here, somewhere new. Somewhere he has money to visit while I don't--if I want a vacation, I'll probably have to settle for a full tour around town courtesy of TARC.
Never has a set of photos made me feel so pathetic. It makes me feel like a true loser to know that not only does Donnie want nothing to do with me (because I'm black or because I was bigger when we met, or perhaps both--there's gotta be a reason), but he's apparently doing a hell of a lot better than me considering he can travel all over the damn globe while the furthest I could ever go out of town is Owensboro. He's probably met the love of his life by now, and they're probably already expecting (he's 32, so it's not impossible). That's fine if he is. Really...he doesn't think I'm good enough anyway, so what the hell? I already have another former classmate who's happily married with a child. Only a matter of time...right?...
Seriously--I'm alright being alone right now. In fact, I've never been more comfortable with being alone. It's being treated like I'm below the level of dirt that I don't appreciate. It's being regarded as some kind of pariah, when I've done nothing to prove myself as such, that gets to me. It's the lack of closure, the lack of clarity. It's the frustration of someone telling me, or implying to me through silence, that it's none of my business why they have a problem with me. (I've said this many times: If it's about me, it is my business, and I have a right to know.) That's where the issue lies.
I've said before that I hate to lose. You can't win all the time, but you don't lose all the time either. Sometimes you find yourself in the middle. That's all I want--to have some kind of happy medium. I see this as a loss. Any time I get let down like this, and the person letting me down comes out with the best of it while I come out with next to nothing, I see it as a loss. Anyone in their right mind would.
I know there are people who are reading this and are appalled that I would post such a thing. I already expect to receive pleas to take this post down** (or to at least change the words) or, perhaps, to never blog again. I expect to be told how ridiculous I'm being, how ashamed I should be of myself, that I am, as I suppose I have always been, what the title of this post implies, and that I'm putting myself at risk for a defamation lawsuit. If I'm lucky, I might even have Donnie himself tear into me and accuse me of ruining his life. I may indeed turn the entire fucking planet on its axis. The truth is, right now I don't care.
So, readers, take this as you must. I'm done.
I've never felt so useless as when dealing with the opposite sex, you know? They say men are easy to figure out. Could've fooled me...
* Yes, I used his real name. So what? What can he do? He's not a celebrity, his name's not copyrighted, and as far as most of the world is concerned, I could be talking about anyone.
** I'm open to taking this down, but I want the chance to bask in my frustration first.
