Ah, rejection. An unfortunate yet apparently unavoidable part of life.
So this weekend, under the guise of drunkenness, I decided to make a move on this boy I had kinda, sorta been crushing on. A series of events had led me to believe that these feelings were not entirely unrequited. Hahahahahaha, I was wrong!
So...after a night of much drinking with a large group of friends, said boy walked me home to my apartment, came into my apartment to gather some belongings he had left, and I decided to go for it. I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards me only to be met with a lot of surprise and complete AWKWARDNESS. Now, the following football analogy describes the three types of rejections possible during such a scenario:
The Heisman: you move in and get the stiff arm
Zone-Defense: the person shifts or moves away to avoid your advance
Man-to-Man: you make contact with the offense, but do not score
I don't even like football but I find this analogy hilarious. My rejection was totally man to man, which, I suppose, is the best of the three? I made it to the lips, but he was just weird and seemingly not into it so I pretty much abruptly aborted and was like: "Uhhhmm, yeaaa, have a good night!"
For a solid 24-48 hours after this encounter I literally cringed every time I thought about it. Ya know, if it was some stranger I'd never have to see again this would soo not be a big deal. But, noooo. Alas, this is a pretty good friend of my roommate and decent friend of mine so I am destined to feel super uncomfortable and awkward the next time I see him. Which's just great and awesome. I can't wait!
I'm debating whether or not to go with some sort of attempt to diffuse or to pretend as though nothing happened. I could try and muster a comment like: "Oh hey, sorry I was a drunken fool the other night and tried to accost you! Wasn't that funny?! Hahahhaha!" But knowing me, I would probably just sound like an awkward freak. Maybe I will say nothing and hope he doesn't avoid me for the rest of eternity. We shall see.
Goddamn liquid courage! It's nothing but trouble. Firstly, I rarely, rarely ever like anyone. Secondly, I never, ever am the one to make the move. What possessed me to suddenly become a completely different person in this instance, I don't know. I can't decide if I'm happy that I had the guts to take the risk or mortified that it ended miserably. Maybe both. Rahhh.
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6 comments:
I love that analogy, stellar, really. For what it's worth, I think you should be happy that you took the chance, totally.
I'm a big fan of testing the waters etc, but it did backfire on one occasion. I was horrified, my pride/ego superbly dented. Soon after, the Rejecter told me that they did it to teach me a lesson. I still don't know what the lesson was.
Yea my brother-in-law passed that gem on to me. I was relaying the story to him and he asked for details about the "type" of rejection. I LOLed for like 10 minutes. And he doesn't even like football either.
Now, several days later, I'm more firmly planted in the "happy I took the chance" camp. I guess the good part about embarassment such as this is that it only burns hot and bright for a short duration. Now I'm like: eh, whatever, I'm over it. Though I have not encountered the Rejecter again yet...
I wish I was a big fan of "testing the waters." Hopefully next time they won't be quite so...chilly?
I don't know enough about football to get that analogy. Which's pathetic. Whatevs.
God, rejection sucks. I spend way too long building myself up and fearing it and then it ends up being almost anticlimatic when it happens: it feels inevitable, over-stressed to the point where somehow I stopped caring, which's weird, like some kind of defect of my persona.
And it's not as brutal as it feels, really, and everyone is rejected, occasionally, but more importantly, occasionally they're not, and I wish I took more chances because maybe then I'd have more things.
I once wrote a story in which the whole, climax/falling action part of the arc occurred due to the main character getting really intoxicated (she was alcoholic, and I portrayed the urges well, apparently, although when I wrote it, I'd never even been drunk) and making this Huge Decision due to the liquid courage and Kate was like, the thing is, when you're drunk, you only do things you want to do. You just don't stop yourself. I don't think that effected the validity of my ending, still, but the point is: she's right. So keeping that in mind 'I was such a drunken fool' doesn't work. But he might buy it anyway. What am I even saying anymore? It's too late/early/late definitely late
Merc:
The only shame about you not knowing anything about football is that you couldn't appreciate the analogy, cus it's damn funny. Other than that, yea, you're not missing much. Or anything, really.
You are right on all counts. The "drunken fool" excuse only mitigates some of the uh, embarrassment. But yea, the "I was drunk" is never really an acceptable excuse for anything. Alcohol is just an enabler. 98% of the time you know exactly what you're doing, you just don't care about the consequences. It's just providing a momentary disguise. Yea.
I wish I took more chances, too. I'm starting to, I think. I've gotten into this habit, it's a really bad habit, of just existing. I just reside in my comfort zone and never push beyond it. With relationships, especially. Which's why I'm alone most of the time. It's simpler and easier, but lonelier, too.
"Over-stressed" is perfectly put. I over-think things to the extreme. Sometimes I want to just silence my mind and just BE. LIVE. DO. I'm working on this.
Hey - I don't not like football. I like it. I enjoy it if it's on, I just don't tune in voluntarily... I guess I like being more of a participant than a spectator.
Anyway -that kind of awkwardness provides you with the intensity of feeling that lets you know that you're really ALIVE.
Live on D.
Fredo-
I stand corrected. I guess I meant that you don't really subscribe to the whole fanatical football culture of this country, as opposed to you notliking football in the raw. Or maybe that's just me projecting.
"that kind of awkwardness provides you with the intensity of feeling that lets you know that you're really ALIVE."
Well said. You're so effing wise, goddamnit. Live on. Word.
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