“The pedestal”

09Apr11

She is sleeping in my bed. I am outside. She talks about the guy she was with on my birthday as her ex.

I am the “nice guy” and she cannot think of anyone she can hook me up with because she “thinks very highly of me”.

It’s 3 am and I am restless. Knowing that for some god forsaken reason, I have been given a singular identity as the “nice guy”. I hate that. Yeah, I may be nice (though I would argue otherwise) but that is not my only identity.

At this point in my life, I need to accept some things I guess. One of them is that she will never see me as anything more than a “nice guy”. So, should I remain a “nice guy”? I probably should have met this other group of friends, where there was a woman who I think had shown interest in me in the past. Oh well, I guess I am stupid too.

I keep telling myself to take it one day at a time. Healing takes time and every day, it would be better. Yeah, I will get over her and then what? I really am not sure. I have begun to doubt my own instincts and my own identity. I have begun to think that the possibility of me being “forever alone” is more likely than not.

So, what changes day by day? Nothing but the acceptance of the inevitability of the futility of my struggles.

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