I’m an ugly crier, a crabby emotional wreck, I fall for words, I’m clingy as Hell and I’m a terrible judge of people. Also, I’m prone to making so many mistakes, it’s embarrassing.
You don’t want to be caught dead dating me.
And in case you’re my, er, boyfriend right now and if you’re reading this, you need to stick with me till the very end. And if at some point you’ve dated me and we’re no longer an item, you’re amazingly lucky. You smart, smart sneakster. You escaped!
And if you really like me, think again. I’m not worth it. You’re better off dating some nice girl who’s normal.
I’m neurotic, you see. I’ve had my heart broken into teensy little pieces. And then I’ve had people crush those teensy pieces into dust. The human body compromises all the time. My malfunctioning heart and seemingly atrophied brains have led to these over-functioning tear glands. Compromise.
I’ve been told I play victim. I’ve been told I am way more clingy than a baby bar of soap that latches onto the mommy bar of soap and refuses to budge. “Hard to peel off”, I’ve been called. Quote Unquote.
I’ve been bitten right on the carotid by the Curse of the Rebound. I get out of a relationship and invariably fall into the next. Breakup, find a shoulder to cry on, date the poor little nice guy, turn him into a monster, repeat.
I get mad when you don’t have time for me. I get hysterical when a year passes by without meeting up. I fight so there would be something to talk about. I try to fill long endless silences with crazy talk. I don’t let people spend on me, paranoid they’d call me a gold-digging freak. Because of that one time I dated this guy and he asked me for “reimbursement”.
(I’m serious. There are people like this.)
I crib like there’s no tomorrow.
Don’t ever date me. You’d lose it. Run, while you can.