Premature rejection

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Premature rejection

There are several things that everyone should have to do, in my humble opinion, in order to grasp the reality of being human. First off, Everyone should have to wait tables, it demonstrates how incredibly needy and self-involved people can be when they have empty water glasses. C’mon how GD important is a lime really?
Second, everyone should experience intense, horrifying loss, this could be a job, a loved one, a house. The good (?) news is life provides this one for virtually everyone. It sounds like a terrible wish for humankind, but it’s essential for growth. There’s tons of other things, but I’ve got to get my kids to school today…so finally, I believe every person should have to date as an adult. Bonus points if you are a single parent. Want humility? Date. Want to learn to deal with rejection? Date. Want to try to nonchalantly remove fish taco sauce from your cleavage? Date.
When I was seventeen and I waited by the phone, there was just the phone to be silent. Now there’s phone, text, email, snapchat, Facebook, Twitter and the occasional my space, to be silent. Are there rules? Cause I can’t decipher them. I’m afraid of calling too soon and appearing to be a stalker, waiting too late and losing my (what I can only imagine is a laser thin) window of opportunity. Is the day long silence a direct result of that joke I made about Ebola? Or because I didn’t at least offer to pay? I can be cool, get busy with other activities. Wait. I could just awkwardly pretend to watch Friends reruns instead of checking my phone, iPad and computer every 15 seconds. I like to imagine, that despite my awkwardness I offer a certain charm and delight, but getting a second date seems harder than getting rednecks to understand the Affordable Heath Care Act.
Rejection can feel so final, like your last meal in prison. Eff this up and it’s the last time anyone ever compliments your sweater. I keep telling myself that this could be fun, relax, enjoy, but sometimes dating feels about as fun as a calculus test written in Latin.
Wanna “what if” with me? What if that WAS the last time anyone ever complimented my sweater? What if I just blew my one chance because there is tarter sauce on my boob? What if the guy I should actually be with is the guy I passed up? What if the only guy that will ever ask me out is the one wearing fake deer antlers in his match.com profile picture? What if awkward is the new cool? Huh. See what I did there?
I think rejection is nature’s way of saying, “next!”. I’ve had the great joy of having some really amazing relationships since Chris’ death, with really great (and equally awkward guys) and it wasn’t a struggle to keep up with them. It was actually pretty flawless, not in the sense that I never had kale stuck in my teeth, just in the sense that it was ok if I did.
Rejection sucks, and feels bad and makes you wonder where your next “meal” is coming from, but aren’t we better off if the mistakes just keep on moving out of our lives. If time has proven anything it’s that I am not getting any smoother in my maturity, so I had best stop looking for someone to make me cooler and instead look for someone to match my awkward.

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