"She said I'm cute?"

 

So someone thinks I am cute. Haha. 

It was all very high school or even grade school in it's reveal.

"I wanna tell you something but you have to promise to keep it a secret."

Knowing I wouldn't I said, "Sure."

"Stef thinks you're cute. She's told me a bunch of times. She even asked me, 'is Adam single? Do you think he would go out with me?'

Now, I've been out of the game for 10 years at this point and it must be a sign of my age because I thought that this 33 year old woman couldn't stand me. I didn't realize it was just nerves or shyness or what have you. And on top of that I'm a fucking troll. I am not good looking in the least nor do I have access to the vast spectrum of human emotions that normally convey normalcy. So to hear that I'm cute, oh, 15 years past the introduction of true self-hatred and disgust is a strange and quite funny notion to me. 

"I-- Really? She said that?"

"She talks about you all of the time."

"That is really funny because I could have sworn she hated me"

"No, she wants to talk to you but she's shy."

"Shy?"

"And she thinks you are hard to talk to because of how shy you are."

This has plagued me for a lifetime, my so-called shyness. And as I kid I couldn't articulate just why I avoided eye contact with people and never spoke about myself: I'm boring. And you know who else is boring? FUCKING EVERYBODY. Holy shit, people, do we have nothing to talk about. I look over my life and think of a simple phrase, "Speak when spoken to. If you have nothing to say, don't say it." Most people didn't have my upbringing apparently because they will talk about nothing of importance fucking constantly. 

"... Would you ever go out with her?"

"Hmm..."

"She really likes you."

"...Yeah... I'm not really into the idea of people liking me. As a rule."

"Because of your depression?"

"Yes. We can say that. Besides, I thought she had a beau -- boyfriend or a husband. She's got kids."

"Oh, no. Her first one was a One Night Stand."

"Unlucky."

An odd thing happened. I began to conjure in my Mind Palace, where my imagination is most vivid, a romantic notion of really stepping up to the plate and becoming a proper boyfriend to this woman and a surrogate father to her two children. I saw myself as being a real friend and lover to someone who, with what little impression I have of her, was downtrodden and unused to responsible male role models in her life. I imagined myself taking the role of adoptive father as my father was to my siblings. I saw myself as a shimmering light, a knight in white, giving all of myself to these women who have so little. I thought I would sacrifice everything for them. Oh it wouldn't be much but we would eke out a living. I would try my very best to be there for them, to grant them a chance at happiness, something that has eluded me for decades. 

I imagined a healthy sex life.

I imagined family dinners.

I imagined helping kids with homework.

I imagined a bustling home filled with love.

But that's not who I am. And all of the things I want to be I know I can never be. I've struck the boundaries of me too often to know that I am as little and without use as I have always been and will ever be. 

"She is unlucky. But she really does like you. A lot. I think so, anyways. "He's so cute"."

"Haha. She said I'm cute?"

...