An observation: I appear to be a magnet for single-divorced males…
For some reason, these guys whom I have a fairly good friendship with, find it absolutely necessary to tell me how much they need a girlfriend or a bed buddy.
Which, to be honest, doesn’t really bother me, but at the same time, my curiousity is piqued as to why they feel the need to tell me about their sex lives; be it active or not, and in some cases in rather too much detail.
Case in point — a guy I befriended in University (though had no classes whatsoever with because he was in engineering and I was obviously not) and stayed in contact with over the last few years was divorced maybe a year after they got married. They were together since just before Uni and his explanation as to why he got married to begin with, when questioned, was that he fell into the trap of “the relationship was stagnant and it was the next logical step if we weren’t gonna break up”. A rather asinine reason to get married, but that’s neither here nor there.
So my friend Y has been single for a couple of years now (give or take) and has, as of last weekend, entered into a brand-spankin’ new relationship. I am super pleased for him. She’s beautiful, intelligent, has book smarts, has an incredible evil prankster streak like he does, EATS like nobody’s business (“not like those skinny salad-eating bitches!”. His words, not mine, by the way), does some modelling, trades stocks for a living and makes more than he does, looks awesome in a school girl uniform (again, his words not mine), incredible in bed (yadda yadda yadda), speaks & writes japanese, understands cantonese, is a gamer and plays WoW (that made me laugh), and is also an anime freak.
In Y’s words, he’s found “the holy grail of girlfriends”.
I suppose I’m only thinking about this in hindsight because earlier this evening I filled out The Scleroderma Society of Canada (SSC) and the Canadian Scleroderma Research Group (CSRG) Patient Survey. This is a survey for scleroderma patients and the results will give direction to guide the scientists and physicians doing scleroderma research. There were a lot of questions in the survey, about 150 or so.
About 3/4 of the way through the survey there was a question that stuck in my head that was something along the lines of “How much does your appearance caused by scleroderma affect how often you partake in social activities?” Basically it boiled down to it affects me a lot more than I had ever really considered. A lot of it having to do with embarassment as to how much I can’t do and not wanting people to really notice it. Not that that’s really explaining where I’m going with this whole conundrum of mine.
I’m greatful for the friendships I have, this is not a discussion about how much I dearly hold my friends. Having a friendship with girls, it’s different. To some degree I care about how I look in the presence of them only because I know I don’t look normal or pretty compared to everyone else anymore, they’ve seen the changes over the last few years and I’ve gotten used to that. In the presence of complete strangers of the female persuasion on the other hand, or people I am only acquainted with, I am completely squicked out about being seen.
But when you’re sitting across from a guy and are a representative of the female species and they’re telling you all this STUFF about a hot chick… it makes me feel uglier than usual because it reminds me that I can’t fix the way I look because of SALLY. Maybe that’s where I was going.
Sure, I could slather myself from head to toe in makeup and look like a mannequin, but that does nothing for the physical deformities that SALLY causes, nor The Puff & mania of steroids.
I love hearing that the single guys in my life are finally finding their happiness or are comfortable to share their feelings about finding a future girlfriend or partner or spouse. It makes me feel like things are going alright in the world — but then I start to dwell on me and my ugliness. It’s always the ugliness.
This post is total garbage.