Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Why is it, when I think I have things figured out and I have a plan all in my head, does the universe and/or whatever powers there may be feel the need to screw with my head?

I always make the wrong mistakes. Granted, there are very few right mistakes, but I always pick the ones that really, really mess things up.

Case in point: after years of totally ignoring Rob on messenger, I, against my better judgment, possibly during some sort of mini-stroke or something, I started talking to him tonight. And what happened? Do you want to take a guess? Do you need to take a guess after our history?

Yeah. You guessed it. He freaking asked me out.

If there is a god, he is a malicious little ass, and he has taken out all his malice on me in the last five minutes or so, constructing for himself a nice little soap opera to watch unfold while he smites sinners to hell and all that.

So here’s the situation in a nutshell: I like Sean. I’ve asked Sean on another date and he’s accepted. However, I don’t know if he likes me back (he said he’d say something, and nothing has been said as of yet). Rob apparently has had this crush thing going since senior year of high school and has just worked up the nerve to ask me out. And despite all my complaining about him, he seems decent enough that I don’t want to act like an asshole and say “sorry, I’m waiting for someone else’s confirmation on a relationship. But if they say no, sure, I’ll go out with you.” And what’s more, I don’t know if I’m ready to trust a relationship that is initiated by someone else. If I initiate it, sure, I have a little control and thus can assign blame to myself readily if things fall apart. But history repeats itself, and I don’t want what’s happened before to happen again anytime soon.

So the only possible solution in my mind right now? Have the little “so where do you see our relationship right now?” conversation with Sean. This I dread like the plague. Why? Because I feel like I’m pushing things. I’m not going to copy down the essence of our conversation so that you’d know what I mean and why I think that, so just trust me on it. I don’t want to make him make a decision prematurely. Therefore, I am really not ready to have this kind of conversation. I know nothing of the pain of birth, but I have a feeling that this is much worse. I mean, for god’s sake, I’d take the freaking quadruplets over this kind of thing.

So please excuse the interpersonal immaturity of this blog. I know not what I’m doing. If there were a class called “Relationships and Dating,” I’d fail it in a nanosecond. I’m not looking for an “easy out.” I just don’t want to mess with people, and with my minimal amount of experience, I really don’t know how to work it out.

Haha, my god, it is a soap opera, isn’t it? All we need are some guys named Slate and Ricardo to show up and a big, macho guy named Don to hold me at gunpoint while demanding where our illegitimate son Ambrose has taken the family diamonds.

Overdramatic, perhaps? Perhaps, but it’s how I lighten the mood.

I don’t know, you’re all more experienced in the field of romance and relationships than I—advise me, peers, advise me!