The Longer Version (But Not the Longest)

I wish I could say that the first time I met Girl X, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever laid eyes upon; it seems like that would be more appropriate for all that happened. But that would be a lie. I thought she was attractive, for sure, but at the same time, I saw her as just another Air Force girl (what I think of the majority of girls in the Air Force, though not all, is a blog for another time; maybe). In fact, for the first couple months her and I talked, I was trying to hook her and one of my friends up. But that never quite happened.

However, during that time, Girl X and I got to spending a lot of time together. And before I knew it, I found I had a crush on her. Of course, I did my best to ignore it at first. Even after it was evident her and my friend weren't going to end up dating, I knew I didn't want to have a crush on her (or anyone for that matter, but that's a different story entirely). But we kept hanging out and I kept getting to know her better and it wasn't much longer til I found i really had feelings for her.

Now at first, I thought I might actually have a shot. We got along so great as friends and like they say, the best lovers are best friends (I have no idea who "they" are, but either they live in a great imaginary world or they're saying that in reference to a culture completely unlike our own). Surely she must've been thinking that too, at least to some degree. I should've known better than to be thinking at all.

I told her I had feelings for her. And then I told her she had to let me take her out on at least one date, which she agreed to. I took her on that date, and all things considered, I thought it went really well. And I was right. And wrong. And I have no way of really explaining that.

We ended up remaining just friends. And in a lot of ways, I think we were really good at it. But my feelings for her didn't go away. In fact, so much as we were spending time together, they grew. And I made sure she knew that I had feelings for her, constantly hoping she'd in some way tell me she kind of had them back. But that never happened. Instead I remained in the friend zone with Girl X while all of my other friends had to hear me whine about it. (Those poor souls).

Unfortunately, the friend zone thing with her went on for years. And while my friends were constantly telling me just to get the hell out, I was digging myself further in. Much too deep.

I've spent a lot of time lately looking back on it all and wondering what the hell was wrong with me. And sometimes wondering just how over it all I really am, but I like to imagine I'm pretty much over it. Girl X has a lot of great qualities and I won't pretend she doesn't just to be spiteful. But not only can I do better; I deserve better.

That being said...

If there was any one reason I stayed in pursuit for so long; that I chased after the heart of girl that has lived thousands of miles away from me for most the time we've known each other, or I kept in touch with her even while she was engaged to another man, or that I even kept on talking to her when she managed to make me feel like shit; it was for the story it would one day make.

I wanted her and I to be this amazing story of a boy who wouldn't give up and a girl that didn't realize until the very last possible moment before all hope was lost. I wanted it to be a story that could be made in to books and movies and possibly even a graphic novel. And, maybe most importantly, I wanted it to be a story that when told to my children, made my sons think twice before wanting to be man-whores and my daughters realize that there really are some decent men in the world and they wouldn't fall some asshole that treated them as less than they deserved.

I think I knew a long time ago that story would never happen. But I didn't want to believe it. So I kept banging my head against a brick wall.

So... Looking back on it all, it would almost be easy to say I wish none of it ever happened. But that's really not the case (most the time).

Knowing Girl X while I was in England got me to do a lot more traveling and adventure than I ever would've without her there (and probably a lot less drinking and video game playing too). And for that, I'm forever thankful. If I could change any one thing though, I would go back and make a move. Like an actual move, like kissing her. Chances are it wouldn't have lead to anything. But I have a friend now happily married that tells me how she had no interest in her husband until he did just that. And if Girl X was repulsed by it, I think our friendship was strong enough that it would've continued (with a little of feeling awkward around each other for a month or so). Either way, now I'll never know.

If I could change any second thing, it's that I would've quit doing anything with any sort of romantic suggestion to it the moment she left England. (Make that a couple weeks after that; I made a pretty sweet scrapbook for her that was started before she left, but not finished until afterwards). My last year in England, a whole year in which Girl X was back in the U.S., I spent a whole lot of money (not to mention time) trying to gain her affection, when really that money would've been much better spent on my friends still around me and myself. And I didn't do much better when I got back to living in the states. I'm not saying I should've just quit talking to her, just that I should've stopped buying her stuff or trying to be romantic and what-not.

Other than that, I don't think I would change anything.

I know the whole Girl X experience has probably screwed me up in more ways than one. And I know I was an absolutely pathetic retard to chase after a girl for so long when there was no real chance. But if I know anything else from the experience, it's just how much I believe in romance. And in some weird way, that feels real good to me.

God's Big Red Button and Unforgivable Sins

My high school years were less than stellar. I often joke that the reason I drink is to try and kill every brain cell containing a memory of my high school years. But I can't honestly say that's nothing but a joke.

Now when I was in high school, I had this completely retarded theory that God had a big red button with my name on it. And if He was ever having a bad day, he'd just press that button and it would screw something in my life up. Then He'd get a laugh while my life grew ever so miserable. And of course, His favorite time to press that button was just when things in my life started to be looking up. It was almost like He planned it; as though good times were just setups to make the next bad time that much worse.

I didn't know why He did this, I just felt like He did. Maybe I'd committed some sin or ten that's completely beyond forgiveness. Or maybe He just didn't like my face. It didn't matter to me, all that mattered is that I was miserable and nothing I did seemed to change it (not that I ever really did much in all honesty, but you don't realize stupid shit like that til years later).

Of course as I grew up I realized that's a retarded theory. For one, if God is the God presented to humanity in the Bible, than big red buttons aren't his style. And two, if He's some other God, certainly He's got bigger fish to fry. But sometimes these days, no matter how retarded I know the theory is, I wonder if I've ever really given up on it.

I can't lie, ever since becoming a Christian, my relationship with God has been rocky. In South Carolina, it was probably at its best. I was surrounded by a lot of great Christians and there never a shortage of inspiration. However, when I got to England, things weren't so great. I know some great Christians for sure, but I also let myself follow a lot of negative influences. Then came New Mexico, where I never quite found the group I was hoping to find and while I went to church often enough, I never felt connected. Nor did I care to after awhile.

Finally, there's being back in Alaska.

For a long time, I was on the fence about reenlisting or separating and moving back home. At one point, I was pretty sure I was going to reenlist and I committed to it. But then, (to make a long story short), I really felt like God was telling me to separate and move home. So I did (there's really more to that story, but that's for another time).

And pretty much since day one of my plane landing back here, I've been wondering if this wasn't some cruel joke by God. Like maybe I committed some unforgivable sin and now He's laughing his ass off while I wonder what the fuck I'm doing in this place.

I'd say I'd give up my left nut to be able to go back in time and change my mind and reenlist, but that's a lie; I'd give both nuts (not like I'm using them for much anyways (and they also, more often than not, tend to get me in trouble)).

I've met some awesome, amazing people since coming home. And I've got to reconnect with a couple old friends I use to worry I may never see again. But let's be honest, if I had never come back, none of us would ever know the difference.

For the new friends, Paul Hayes may as well be a fictional character in a book (or in a movie, so much as the character is played by Johnny Depp). And for old friends, Paul would just be the guy that sends postcards from random places he visits and that occasionally drunk dials home.

And I don't know if reenlisting would actually have helped my relationship with God, but I know for certain it couldn't have made it any worse.

Anyways, to wrap this up, if there's any point that can be made from it all, it's that every night I go to bed and I'm stuck staring at the ceiling for hours on end, I'm daydreaming of getting the hell back out of here. (Actually, I usually daydream going back in time and being able to reenlist, but since that isn't possible, I try to imagine a more likely scenario). I love my friends here, more than they'll ever know, and I love Alaska (Anchorage is king of turning into a shit-hole though), but there's something missing and it's driving me absolutely insane.

Now luckily for those that want me around, my chances for escape seem few and far between these days (especially with that military commitment), but if a good one comes along, deuces.

If I Ever Get Married (An Addendum)

(I don't know why I'm in such a writing mood lately; hopefully one of these days I'll use it for something that's actually somewhat productive.)

I just want to say that if I ever do one day get married, I have every intention of spoiling my wife as much as possible. If her friends aren't absolutely, positively jealous of her, then I am failing as a husband. Hell, if women all over the world aren't hearing of things I've done and becoming jealous, then I'm not doing a good enough job. Hopefully someday I'm rather wealthy so this won't be nearly so hard, but I'm pretty sure I can still do it with less money than most. (And for the record, I already have a little experience in all this, so it's not like I won't at all know what I'm doing).

I know I quite possibly have an overly idealistic version of love and romance inspired by one too many Disney movies, I don't really care; it'll be my marriage (and hopefully my wife is just as idealistic as me). And if I'm not constantly chasing after that idealism in my marriage, then once again, I'm failing. If I'm not trying to make my wife that happiest woman on earth, I'm failing miserably.

I bring this up because A) it fits the theme of the last couple posts. And B) Even in my state of being perpetually single, I still often find people giving me advice about someday being married. And it's usually annoying.

For starters, some of it comes from people in marriages that look completely miserable. I've had enough misery being single, the last thing I want is to do anything similar to a marriage that would just keep the misery going.

Then there's the fact that what works for one person isn't guaranteed to work for another. And often won't. I'm sure (most) people mean well when they give such unsolicited advice, but more often than not, it's a waste of time. So instead of giving advice that may not even work and definitely won't be remembered to some single guy, they should tell him about a hot friend of theirs they're going to try and hook him up with.

Finally, as I've already point out, I'm not even close to being married! In fact, the way things have been going, I'm probably closer to going gay (though I do have a standing offer from someone to make me a eunuch which would alleviate the problem of sex entirely). I'm not sure if people are trying to put salt in the wound by giving me advice about marriage or if they think that by giving me such advice I'm magically going to find someone and be married and then I can put that advice to quick use.

I think the only time I've even half appreciated marriage advice has been from people that told me not to do it. At least that's advice I can put to use.

And in the future, if I'm close to getting married, there's very few people I can think of I'd ask for advice from. The number one person being an old man that's been married 50+ years and can honestly say he's never even thought of cheating or leaving his wife and he's certain of the same of her. (I don't know if any such old man really exists, but I'd like to imagine so).

Anyways, that should be enough talking of love and marriage and romance and all that for a bit. (Except possibly a Girl X post in the future, but that's a whole other can of worms). If there's anything I'm less qualified to talk about than all of this, it's God. So I'll probably do one about Him next.

If I Knew the Future and It Was Lonely

(This isn't the pity party it looks to be at first, but more of a daydream written down).

Sometimes I wish God would just tell me I'm destined for loneliness. Or at least send an angel to appear before me on a road while I'm traveling that tells me it's just not in the cards for me to be with anyone and I should just stop trying. Sure, I'd be bummed about it, but I'd get over it. And then I'd never have to wonder again.

Unfortunately, neither of the above has happened. And, as hope springs eternal, I've yet to learn to just give up on my own. I'm not sure I could. However, over the past year or so, I've really been wondering what I would do should such a thing happen. And here's what I've come up with.

First off, I'd delete my Facebook. I don't know why that's part of the daydream or how it even ended up the number one priority. But that's definitely what would happen.

Following that, I think I'd sell off just about everything I could that I own and throw out most the rest.

Then there's a couple other possibilities. Possibility one is that I would go to the gym for like eight hours a day for a few months and then try out for Air Force special forces, most likely pararescue. Chances would still be pretty slim that I'd make it, but I'd like to have at least given it a shot.

The other possibility, or what would happen once I was turned down for special forces, is I'd get the hell out of Alaska like the place was on fire. It would suck to leave a lot of my friends behind, especially as I'd have no Facebook for keeping in contact with them (and we all know that's the only way to keep in touch with long distance friends these days). But staying in a place where I'm constantly miserable just to make others happy would be retarded.

But I wouldn't move just anywhere, I've actually narrowed the list down quite a bit.

The least likely place would be Portland, OR. It looks and sounds like somewhere I'd enjoy, but never having been there, it seems like a huge leap of faith to just move there, especially as I would have no clue of what I'd want to do there.

Next on the list would be NYC, which would be like a 50/50 chance of happening if I could make enough money selling my stuff to cover living expenses there for a few months (which would be no easy task).

Most likely, I'd go to San Francisco. I know it's full of dumb hippies and my visit there was very short, but I've never fallen in love with a city itself so quickly as I did SF. I can easily picture myself living there and being a writer. And there's a reserve base near there so I'd have some sort of job and be able to make some other connections rather easily.

Finally, if I somehow got A LOT of money, I'd go to London, the greatest city in the world (I know I haven't been to all cities, I don't have to, just having been to London I know it's that great). I'd spend hours upon hours just walking the streets and absorbing the history. And people watching too. Then my weekends would be spent taking short trips to other European cities where I'd do the same. And I'd probably write a lot there too.

Anyways, this is just a dumb daydream used to get me through certain times. There's probably greater odds I wake up with superpowers than any of this happening. For whatever reason, part of me refuses to give up hope on love (no matter how much money that would help me save). And let's be honest, even if it did finally give up hope, I'd likely be too lazy to deal with the logistical headache of pulling off such a move. Instead I'd just bitch to my friends more (which will probably make some of them wish I did leave). But should you ever look for my Facebook and be unable to find it...

Off My Chest, For the Record

I believe that physical attraction is important for any romantic relationship, it should in no way be the defining characteristic of those relationships. Granted, we do live in an MTV-brainwashed society where the most important thing (and often the only thing that matters) is physical appearance. But sometimes I like to imagine that there are still pockets of people out there that are truly committed to developing their minds just as much, if not more, as their bodies (sometimes I even dare to imagine intellectualism coming back in style).

That being said...

I don't know if I'm ever going to get married. I'd like to imagine so, but we never know what life has in store for us. However, should God one day grace me with a wife, you'd better damn well believe she's going to be beautiful. And I mean turn-heads-when-she-enters-the-room beautiful. Or cause-car-wrecks-when-she's-outside-jogging beautiful.

And I'm not saying this to be a cocky bastard (well, maybe a little), but to let people know they might want to get used to the idea of me being with someone that's "too good for me". And if they don't like the idea, then they're more than welcome to the misery they create for themselves by worrying too much about other people's lives instead of focusing on their own.

Another forewarning: Should future imaginary wife ever become real and her and I are out somewhere public and someone wants to seriously tell me that she's too good for me, they should be prepared to be kicked in the balls. Unless it's a woman telling me that; then she should be ready to get punched in the tits.

*Don't get me wrong, in a sense, I think a man should always treat his wife as though she's too good for him. As in he should always be thankful for her in his life and makes sure she knows that. But that's really where the line should be drawn.