The Things You Don’t Say

So I’ve got a taste of normal life. And it started in the most “No Life”-situation possible.

I like to play those stupid, time-consuming social games on Facebook. They do sound dumb but depending on what you play, they’re actually quite complex and can keep you occupied for hours – just what I need on slow days at work. The downside is that most of them require you to have a lot of friends to play with. I don’t know a lot of people who enjoy these games and / or don’t assume that playing such a game on a social platform like Facebook will make an army of sociopaths appear on their doorstep. So a while ago, I took the bittet pill and reorganized my Facebook friends so I could have a group just for players and then started looking for “neighbors” for my different games.  Since people grow tired of these things, I end up deleting and adding people every couple months. Just like a few weeks ago.

Usually, an “Add Me” posts gets you a bunch of requests from bored housewives or Asian kids who are on a mission. The almost autistic dedication they show when building their cities and tending to their farms makes me chuckle but otherwise, I really don’t pay much attention to who adds me. When all of a sudden, a “normal” person added me. First, he had an actual picture (of himself?) as his icon. He also had a realistic German name instead of some fake identity stolen from a favorite book or movie that somehow made it through the plausibility check Facebook. And within a couple hours, he’d sent me about five messages, first thanking me for the add, then complimenting my taste in music, then asking me where I live since he’d noticed I’m German.

Okay, so I’m a girl and I haven’t been using the Internet since yesterday. And since I’ve discovered Photoshop and all the wonderful apps you can get for the iPhone, I’ve started uploading pictures of myself that make me feel less monstrous. So I’m no stranger to getting the odd compliment or interest from people on the Internet. And I know that it is mostly down to people being polite, friendly at most.

But the thing is, this guy didn’t back off. Even though I made the dorkiest comments, revealed the most facepalm-worthy stuff about me that you don’t mention and hope he’ll never find out. For the most part, I’ve mentioned to be quite cool and laid back, made casual conversation which I usually can’t even do through chats and messages. Even online, I’m quite awkward. So, since he lives just around the corner, I’ve even considered meeting him for real. Nothing crazy like visiting him at home or inviting him over, don’t worry. Just a meeting in a public place, maybe just say hello when we happen to be in the same place, go to the same concert, etc. Which is likely because, apart from him living nearby, he also shares a lot of my interests and we can both ramble about our hobbies forever. So in a way, it would be more painful not to meet him than it would be to just do it.

But then it comes down to all my little insecurities. I’m not sure he expects me to be who I am. Just today, he asked me if you can already see some muscle from my weight training in the gym. Admittedly, I was the one bringing the gym up in the first place and maybe that’s what made him think I actually look like someone who’s somewhat disciplined with their workout. But now I’m at the “Do I tell him?” point where I’m just wondering…well, do I tell him? Obviously, I can’t meet him without having him find out what I look like and honestly, I’m not completely hideous. But hell, I’m nowhere near a healthy weight. I’m nowhere near a healthy relationship with myself, either. I mean, it’s not just my looks. There’s so much that I hate about myself and I’m not sure I’d even make it through a night of small talk without showing my real self. And I don’t even know if that would be such a bad thing. I mean, you can’t get anywhere unless you’re yourself, right? See, but I can’t even come up with a good warning for him. Do I just tell him “Look, I’m not who you think I am!” or do I say “I do come with a lot of baggage”? That’s so…cliché. But I don’t want to get into full detail. I could just send him a list with all the things that make me awkward and that I’m nervous about and hope he won’t run for the hills but somehow, I doubt that’s a good strategy…

See? That’s why I don’t date. Ever. I don’t even know if I’m interested in him. I used to say that I’m not good at buying clothes because when you’re fat, it’s not about “Do I like those pants?” but about “Will they fit over my ass?” And it’s the same with him. Do I like him? Or could I really like him? I don’t know. But he happens to be the first normal guy in a long while that matches my criteria for someone I could be interested in.

Categories: Me Myself and I | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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