Re-read this post.
Substitute Hot Douchebag for Nameless Teammate.
Substitute "What I do know about you, I don't like," for some equally offensive and rude remark.
Add an afternoon spent "tasting" at a brewery.
Add ice. Stir.
I had asked for it. I had walked up to him and asked if I offended him. He stammered. I said if I did something, I really wanted to know. So he opened his mouth and said it. The words aren't important—I don't feel like adding the sentiment to the Universe—but it wasn't something I did; he just didn't like me as a person. I was left feeling the same as I did with Hot Douchebag. Punched in the stomach with all the words sucked out of me. I had no retort. When this 40-year-old man said what he did to me, I reacted the same way I did in elementary school. I stared at my shoes and walked away.
What had started as a funk earlier in the week turned into full despair as I returned to my table. Fat, juicy tears slid down my cheeks. The people I were with—the friends I had made—turned and asked me what happened. I told them. They were enraged on my behalf. I couldn't stop the tears. Boys who didn't know me got up from their stools and approached me out of concern. Immediately they told me I was gorgeous as if the rejection I just received was romantic. Someone bought me a shot of Southern Comfort and lime.
As I stood up to take the shot, Nameless Teammate approached my table to greet the remaining people. My new guyfriend purposely spilled his drink on him in retaliation. Words were exchanged. Nameless Teammate left. When I returned, the incident was regaled to me and everyone took turns telling me how Nameless Teammate had offended them in the past. I was not special.
But the telling off was too close in timing to what had already been rolling around in my head: I am not likable. There is now a list of people who don't like me. I haven't been on the receiving end of such open hostility since S.
The tears shortly subsided. A friend took me dancing to my favorite song, spinning me into Nameless Teammate's path and forcing him to leave the bar altogether. How he and I are going to coexist on the same summer team, I don't know yet.
As soon as I was alone though, I crumpled into sobs, gnashing my teeth and wailing at the half-lit moon. I was so profoundly sad. I felt like the man who had said mean things to me confirmed my fears. I am unlikable on even the most basic of levels. He didn't even want to know me. In my apartment I drank myself into oblivion. I fired off a very drunken e-mail to a stranger. And then I crawled in bed and cried myself to sleep.
I slept for 15 hours. I walked the dog to Kroger and bought myself a box of Goobers, ate half of it, and then slept for 12 more hours.
I feel like my heart is broken, yet there is no breakup.
~Monday, June 13, 2011
Re-read this post.
Love, Sarah at 11:51 PM|