I Bet You Think This Blog Is About You, Don’t You?

I hate to admit it, but sometimes I can be so petty. Usually I can put on a tough face, hold back the tears and “be the better person”, but sometimes I just let my emotions get the best of me. There is no in between; either I am silently moving on faster than a guy can zip up his pants and bolt, or I am marinading in all of my complaints until one day I explode and cut off all communication with someone; deleting all photos, texts, and memories of them out of my life completely. And then an hour later I’m sitting there with my bottle of wine thinking, “hmmm, maybe I could have handled that differently.” Oh well!

After you blog something crazy and realize that you have a problem.

What brings out my pettiness, you ask? I’ve gotten upset (and even cried) over my Dunkin’ Donuts order coming out wrong. I’ve had my feelings hurt because I wasn’t included in something. But this week I’m feeling all kinds of petty with men and social media. Separately, they’re entertaining, but together…what a headache. One of the good qualities about my ex was that he didn’t have social media, and so I always say that the next guy I enter a relationship with will also have little, to nothing to do with it. It’s hard nowadays though, to find a guy who doesn’t frequent social media. Especially if you’re meeting these guys on dating apps..like, hello, what else do you expect from them? 

But seriously, do they not realize that their followers can see everything that they do? We can see the accumulation of new women that they follow daily and we can see the pictures of girls that they are commenting heart-eye emojis on; which by the way, ew, really? And you’re trying to make me believe that you’re only interested in and pursuing me? Good luck with that. Cue the trust issues and overanalyzing of umm, everything! Now I’m a rather insecure girl, so seeing these things makes me question my own appearance in so many ways. Like, not only do I have to worry about pretty girls, but I also have to worry about non-pretty girls; because the only way that they can get attention is by being easy, unclassy and making a game out of stealing other women’s boyfriends. Am I really attractive or does anything with a pulse catch a guy’s eye? Very discouraging. And confusing. Especially in the beginning of whatever it is you and this other person are doing (because labels are awful, and there’s always something better). Thumbs up! 

Basically, if you want to “keep your options open”, as I’ve been told once before (real lady killer, I tell ya), then please stop acting like you are only interested in one person. It’s not fair to string someone along while pursuing other poor, naive women who look like they don’t have a brain cell to spare, nor a clue that you’re not as into them as you say you are. You cannot in fact, have your cake and eat it too. Although when I think about it, that also seems unfair. What the hell else am I going to do with a cake?!

Rewind back to having or not having labels; I understand that you can’t technically get upset with someone because you aren’t “officially dating”, however that time beforehand is when you figure out if this person is actually worth dating; not for them to continue to fudge around on some greener grass and act like you aren’t important (until it’s convenient for them, that is). If you want this to progress, show me. If not, adios Felicias. Because your sketchiness isn’t going to make me believe that you are label-worthy. You are in your 90 days sir, and you need to prove to me that you are a charming, one woman kinda guy. Because on the contrary to what some of you may have heard about me, I am a one guy kinda gal. Labels or not, when I am into someone, I am into them and only them. If I wasn’t then I wouldn’t be wasting either of our time.

At the end of the day I have to remember that I have dated some real losers in the past. I’ve been hurt and I’ve gotten over it. I got over Tyler in the 12th grade, Nick Carter just this past year actually, and I’m sure that I’ll get over plenty more just as easily. So I’ll vent about my feelings via run on sentences, regret it all tomorrow and move on with my life; because I have zero time to let another man-child determine my self worth. 

You know what they say “don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things.”

Rant over. Also, did anyone else sing my blog title?