I saw her periodically,
But dreamed about her often;
In fantasies, I’d see her change,
Her yielding face to soften —
But this was all imagining.
She was no way attracted —
And all that I could really do’s
Control the way I acted.
It was a kind of walking shame,
One she had not invited,
But such is how our hearts are built,
To be in this way blighted,
Unfair and asymmetrical:
Attraction and affection —
And boys need one skill badly, that’s
In how to face
Rejection
Okay. About the “friendzone”:
First, the terms unfortunate —
For it implies that friends are
Something terrible to get.
But I think I see well enough
What’s being gotten at —
It is about rejection,
Sometimes painful ones, at that.
So now, no matter who you are
It’s tough (you know it’s true!)
When you desire someone who
Does not desire you
And since rejection’s painful
One will say, “well let’s be friends.”
The other thinks, “this hurts too much.
I guess here’s where this ends.”
Don’t tell someone that you don’t want
They’re wrong for wanting you:
And if you are the rejectee
Might want to think this through —
Most important: don’t lash back.
It’s wrong to behave such:
Like you were never told when young
There’s stuff that you can’t touch.
Love’s freely given, or not there.
To deal with, takes some balls:
If you want to control folks, then
Go home
And play
With dolls
I know how it feels
To be the guy
She wishes wasn’t there
To try to impress
With all you’ve got
But know she will not care
I know how it feels
To be yourself
The real thing – all of it –
And see in her eyes
You’re nothing but
A worthless
Piece of
Rejecting those who’d have us with
A cold, offhand disdain:
When we’re rejected, grieving from
The keen and searing pain
It’s one of the imbalances
To which we all are prone:
The broken heart’s of others
Just don’t matter
Like our own
I’m going to make this short,
And try to keep it very real —
Rejectors: please don’t ever tell
Rejectees how to feel
So once, in this human terrarium,
A guy asked a woman to marry him;
She promptly said, “No.”
And then turned to go,
While he wished the ocean would bury him
(“True Stories from My Past, Episode 1” – 8-14-2016)
He’d sought the company of a young woman who clearly wasn’t interested. He asked me what he should do.
Me: That’s easy. Give up and move on.
Him: But I think she might be the One…
She’s not. Take it from me.
How do you know?
I’ll answer you, but first, let me ask you a question.
Alright.
Would you rather have a beer or a vaccine?
A beer. Preferably more than one to go with these hot dogs.
Don’t know you know what’s good for you? I think you should quit eating hot dogs and drinking beer, and get a full panel of vaccines instead.
I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want. It’s my life, I’ll do as I please.
Ah, got it, sorry. Now, as to your question – how I know she’s not the One…
Yeah?
Because, you stupid prick, she’ll decide what she likes and doesn’t like, not you.
Are you calling me a vaccine?
No, because those have actually helped people.
I’d be willing to buy her beer…
Shots, more likely, and we already established she doesn’t want those any more than you did.
So I should leave her alone and find someone else?
Yes.
Even though I have strong feelings for her.
Especially because you have ‘strong feelings’ for her. Because that’s crazy – you don’t even know her.
Has this ever happened to you?
Yes. I’ve been offered more “turn down” service than a fancy hotel.
Fine. I’ll see what else is out there.
Good man. Give the poor girl a break.
You make me sound like some kind of stalker.
You basically were becoming one, dude. So… DON’T DO THAT.
Whatever.
“Assent is just another ass assuaged.”
He ran away reactively; she raged
At what a wicked war that man had waged,
But she no longer would be kept or caged.
For he’s a fool to think that he would find
Some special spot of welcome in her mind,
Inviolate is how she is. In vain
Will he approach her castle walls again.
More bellicose he grew, within this bar,
To try to shame her, and regain control,
But she has come too far, too fucking far
To lose that to some man without a soul.
In vino veritas. It’s understood:
He’s shown his real face, and it’s no damned good
She means the world to him, while he
Is nobody to her;
Revulsion is more like it,
Truthfully.
It’s hard to get his bearings, or
To hold his head up high,
Or just to chalk it off,
If ruefully —
For when he opened up himself
And hoped for some acceptance,
He found he wasn’t worthy
In her eyes
She meant the world to him, but he
Was nobody to her;
And ‘nobody’ is such
A tiny
Size
