For those of you expecting a UGA Game Breakdown, you're not going to get it today. You can blame me for that, but my ability to write anything remotely not depressing today has taken the day off. We're hoping it returns sometime on Monday or Tuesday, but today I'm in a funk of sorts and it's not going to get any better. So, if you wish to read what I think will be a pity party of great magnitude, then knock yourself out. If not, close this box and we'll see you later.
Also, before you get the inkling to leave comments about how you think I'm a great person and you love me and I have "X" amount of great qualities, please understand I don't wish to see those. What's going on is deeper than people trying to help me feel better. While I appreciate and love all of you, it's not going to help today and I'm sorry, but thanks anyway.
Well let's not make y'all wait any longer.
I woke up this morning (thankfully I guess) and shot straight up in my bed after having the most vivid nightmare I've had in a long time. Now please understand this wasn't a regular nightmare of rattlesnakes and guns, this was the most vivid dream that tugged at memories that still pain me from day to day even though no one ever sees it. I had a dream last night The Ex and myself met for the first time in a long time where it was shared that I dream of her and she still does of me. It was an awkward first meeting but one that I could feel (in the dream) was going to lead to somewhere and eventually it did; leading back to the obvious choice that we were meant to be together.
So I woke up, wide awake, already defeated in the purposes of the day. My events of the afternoon and the evening have already been ruined by the most vivid recount of everything I have secretly wanted to happen and publicly not wanted to happen. The problem is, both feelings are geniune and I don't know which direction I would choose given the opportunity.
Now here's the fucked up part. I am no longer in love with The Ex, but I'm SCARED TO DEATH of her being the last girl I date. Many of you may find this silly, retarded, foolish, or whatever adjective you decide to attach to my ramblings, but to me, they're very real, very very possible, and incredibly intimidating. The sad truth is though that I'm not even remotely ready to date anyone because I still have these dreams. Of course, my friends say that's exactly what I need. I need a new girl to ditch the old one from my memory. However, this moves to my second challenge...
Meeting a new girl. I hate to let everyone know, but I'm not shit. In the RCB, I threw parties, I did things that at least had me recognizable to others, and I was known for being the wild boy with the good heart. Well, now I'm in the real world and I'm not shit. All I am is the alumni drinking beer at a band party talking about the good old days while no one around me gives a shit. Seriously, how am I supposed to date anyone when I'm not even attractive? My standards for the kind of girl I date are extremely lofty because I feel I deserve the best because of the TYPE of person that I am, but let's be honest kids, I'm not going to get it. That King of Queens shit isn't going to happen in the Kitchens' household. Truth be known, I don't know how to meet women because I honestly feel that the girl I should be with I shouldn't have to work for. It should just come naturally. It SHOULD be easy. It's not a fucking job interview, it's what's supposed to happen and even though I'm only 24, I want it to happen...soon.
I spend so much time thinking about dating and being with someone. I mean I spend ridiculous amounts of time just looking and wondering. I have admired both friends of mine and girls I barely know from afar, wondering if they were the ones I was supposed to date instead of the mostly crappy run of relationships I've had. Truth be known, I have spent a lot of time wondering who I'm supposed to be with, if anyone such exists.
There is some intense shit going on in my cranium and I keep trying to ignore the problem and hoping it will go away with time. Apparently this thing will not be denied. I won't drink it out again, because I'll never touch another bottle of Jack Daniels with those intentions ever again...it's honestly just too dangerous. But what's going on inside my head is like a cancer slowly eating away at the rational thoughts and replacing them with those that shouldn't be even acknowledged. Thoughts like the ones that made me call up a mutual friend and ask if The Ex had agreed it was completely over. Thoughts like that shouldn't be given the opportunity to exist, but they do because they just won't die.
Whatever the solution is, I don't know and apparently I'm not going to know anytime soon. Until then, the dreams will continue to dictate my mood until they just end.
Hopefully, that will come soon.