Floating

The metaphor for how I feel when I tell people about the level of loneliness I go through on a daily basis is that I feel like I'm floating through the atmosphere, not grounded at all and not having a home or base, just out there among the stars, nonexistent to all other beings. Here are the most recent events to help contribute to that feeling:

1. Not that I have a lot of male friends (three), but every one of them has a girlfriend, and it makes me want to vomit. Not that they aren't good guys and don't deserve a woman, but shit, how many times am I going to be in a situation where I'm having dinner with a friend and his girl is there snuggling with him and I'm just sitting across the table twiddling my thumbs? What a helpless, frustrating feeling it is to hang out with a friend and his girlfriend without a date of my own. I went through it twice in the last couple of weeks. I went out three weekends ago to my friend "Drew's" house and on Sunday morning at a restaurant for brunch it was Drew, his girlfriend, my best friend "Ronnie," his new girlfriend who he had known at the time for a week, and my lonely ass just sitting there. Not fun. And Drew's girlfriend is barely an adult, so she's asking all these personal questions trying to figure out what's wrong, but she's not old enough to realize that what's wrong is I'm not attractive and not rich, simple as that. Then the weekend that "Jacob" was here for his big-money baseball fantasy draft, he and his girlfriend and I went out to dinner with some friends of his. This dinner always took place when he visited town, but with just us guys. Now there's a woman there. I tried to invite a female friend to join me because I was feeling so inadequate, but of course the friend wasn't able to. I was diplomatic in these situations, but the reality is, there aren't many things more uncomfortable than being around the same guys that I used to bitch with about how much we hated women, and now there they are with a woman, and I'm all alone, so somewhere along the way they stopped having a problem dealing with women. I on the other hand still don't have a clue.

2. "Torrie" still refuses to keep in touch with me or inform me about her plans to join me at the Kentucky Derby the weekend of May 7. I haven't heard from her in several weeks. I tried to call her recently and left a voice mail, but her response was in text message and said that she had no time to talk to me because her two nephews are both in the hospital and her work schedule and the hospital visits are taking up all her time. It would have taken her less time to call me and tell me that, but just like when she tried to dump me via e-mail, it takes guts to speak to me live, and apparently she has none. But it's all my fault, because she tried to dump me but I laid a guilt trip on her and she rescinded. So she basically tried to tell me in so many words that I am not a priority in her life, and I didn't listen because I was too wrapped up in the drama of being abandoned again. But what's worse, being abandoned or being told that you're not being abandoned and being abandoned anyway? And people wonder why I feel like I'm from another planet. All this time that Torrie is spending between family and work is of course understandable, but it doesn't explain why there hasn't been one time where she calls before she goes to bed for the night and says: "Boy, things are really crazy right now. I haven't had time to think hardly. But I just wanted to say that you're on my mind and I want to thank you for hanging in there and being there for me. It's something that I'm not taking for granted, and I really do appreciate it. Well, I'm tired, so I'm turning in. Take care honey, and thanks again."

Nope, too busy to do that.

3. And with Torrie apparently unavailable for Kentucky Derby weekend, it means that I have had a hotel room reserved in Louisville for an entire calendar year and now that the time is here, I will be going to share that room with...wait for it...absolutely nobody. I originally reserved it right after I came back home from the Derby last year, because it's so hard to get a room in Louisville for Derby weekend, and because I had so much fun with "Sarah" that I just knew we'd still be together at this time next year and we would love to go back. Of course, Sarah and I are no longer, but think about what I have to offer: A two-night weekend in Louisville for an event that over 150,000 people attend live every year, and even if you weren't into horses, a two-night weekend with a young, virile black man, no holds barred, for free. Now think about the 492 trillion websites on Yahoo and such promoting dating black men and how many women are members of these sites. And not one of these women want to take advantage of this with me. Not the women in Louisville, not the women here in Chicago, not anywhere in between can you find a woman willing to make this trip with me. How fucking pathetic is that? Oh, and it gets better: Ronnie, knowing that I have an empty room and knowing how hard it is to find a room anywhere near Louisville for Derby weekend because, after all, he's the person that took me to the Derby the first time I went two years ago, now wants to take that room for him and his new girlfriend and split the costs with me. In the words of an ex-lover when she asked me what I was thinking standing over her with my dick hanging out and I responded that, duh, I wanted to put my cock in her mouth: "That's not gonna happen." There ain't no way I'm spending Derby weekend watching any guy and girl cuddling all over each other and I don't have anyone to cuddle with. Even if I had someone, it wouldn't happen because, duh, I'd want the room to be empty for me and my lady. And Ronnie has done a lot for me over the years, driving me here and there because I don't have a car, helping me move a couple of times, but plain and simple, if he wants a hotel room in Louisville for Derby weekend, he needs to reserve one well in advance, just like I did. I'll spend the whole weekend alone before I share a room with a couple. Period.

4. I got up the courage to ask someone out on a date for the first time in years. Yes, a real live person, not a profile on an internet dating site. She laughed and said no, of course. In the many weeks that we have talked casually during class, I've never heard a reference to any kind of social life, and when I asked her Monday what she did over the weekend, she said "Nothing, just rented movies with my family." I followed up by asking if she'd want to go see a movie this weekend. She giggled and said, "No thank you, I've got plans." Now, I'm not going to say that there's no way that this person that has never mentioned a social life does not have plans this weekend. She may be going to a relative's birthday party or something. But here's my point: She now knows that I want to go out with her. If she wanted to go out with me, would she not suggest going somwhere at a different time than this weekend? Sometime when she doesn't have plans? But there was no follow-up of the sort from her, just a laugh and a rejection when I dared mention that she could see a movie with me. A few people have told me to ask her whether she was free to see a movie with me some other time. Those people apparently don't feel the humiliating sting of rejection very often. How many ways am I supposed to ask this girl to go out with me before I realize that she doesn't want to go out with me? I could paint her into a corner and find out when she's not busy and say, "A-ha! There is a point in time that you could use to go out with me." But now she has to come up with a different excuse, and that's not comfortable for her or for me. I tried, she shot me down, that should be the end. If I keep coming at her even after being rejected, that's just pitiful. I have a little pride, not much, but a little.

So that's where I stand mentally, just kinda floating around wondering when I became so different from other human beings. Oh, and there's a shot of anger thrown in too: I was reading posts on the message board where I met "Karen," and she's still posting there. I had to read her talking about how proud she is to be a fat girl and how she accepts herself. I resisted the urge to bust her out by posting: "But how proud are you to be a bisexual BBW swinger, and how proud are you that you don't tell your boyfriends about it until they find your secret website, and even then you don't explain yourself, you just ignore them like they don't exist???" I'm coming to grips with the fact that I may go the rest of my life wanting nothing more than to turn her upside down and pour bleach into her cunt. Some things just can't be smoothed over, no matter how much counseling or time I receive.