Why I involve myself with losers (criminals, unavailable men, serial cheaters, jerks — a combination of any of the aforementioned descriptors) boggles my mind.
There’s this one stand-by friend (we’ll call him “Award”) who I’ve known for almost 18 years; he’s no drama, unattached, attentive, sweet, very attractive, smart, professional. Yeah, all that good stuff.
And guess what?
I blow him off because it irritates me that he brags about his son too much. I mean, how much more shallow and petty can I be? What does that say about me?
Oh, and he does this weird shrugging thing to demonstrate an it is what it is or oh well sentiment in conversation sometimes.
And he smokes plain Black & Mild cigars. Yes, plain.
He’s a bit arrogant, but so am I.
So essentially, there’s nothing really wrong with him. He’s perfect, actually — a great catch. No pressure for commitment, either.
So why, again, am I involving myself with losers? If I had to guess, I’d say that losers are easy. If I have made up my mind that there couldn’t possibly be a future, I save myself heartache or something.
Or, maybe I do like drama. Worse yet, maybe my heart’s been so battered that I don’t think that true love can exist for me.
A travesty if I do say so myself.
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