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Saturday, Sept. 25, 2004 - 5:52 p.m. MORTIFICATION I do not like the last entry I wrote. In retrospect, the entry seems very narcissistic. Please do not misunderstand me; I see nothing wrong with a person’s liking himself for who he is. But the truth remains that even if I get a million compliments on my eyes, they are not my greatest attribute. In fact, I do not see myself as having any great attributes for that matter. Otherwise, I would have had a girlfriend a long time ago. The reality is that if I am ever to be loved by a woman, my attributes will ultimately mean nothing. Yes, attributes may be a good conversation starter, like my exchange with the waitress, but I have come to realize that in order for a woman to love me, she must know me for who I really am and not what I look like. However, this area may be where I am most potent, both to the opposite sex and to myself. The nunlike girl with a crush on me eventually grew impatient with the fact that I did not seem to be reciprocating her overtures, and, in a desperate attempt to find out if the feelings were mutual, spilled all her guts out to me in an email. My suspicions were accurate all along as, in her own words, she “had it really bad for” me. I responded to the email that I was utterly surprised and flattered, and I would have to really think about what she told me. I doubt I will be contacting her any time soon because, to be blunt, I just do not like her. The issue with the waitress is another story. As I had wrote in my previous email, I was going to call her last Saturday, which I did. I got her voicemail but her mailbox was full. So, I waited until Monday when she finally answered her phone while she was working at the restaurant. The conversation began well, but before I could really say anything, my computer decided to dial-out mid-call and I got disconnected. I tried contacting her again but all I got was her full mailbox. I then called the restaurant just to say I had not hung up on her intentionally and that I would call her back another time. She said she was just busy and she would call me after work. She never did. A couple more days went by and I had all but given up, but someone advised me to try one more time, so I did. She answered while she was on a treadmill and apologized saying that she was an extraordarily busy person who cannot return phonecalls. She then told me a few things about herself, and without knowing much about me, asked if I could come over to her house. Not long after her invitation, her other phone rang, and again, I got disconnected. She did not call me back afterward, but I did eventually manage to leave a message on her voicemail. I basically told her to call me if she were interested in talking, otherwise, I would just assume she is just too busy for me. The strange issue, of course, is how willing she was to invite me over to her house. Her willingness greatly concerned me. After all, how many other guys does she meet that she invites over to her house? What do they do there? And why the heck is her phone ringing all the time and why is she too busy to return calls? Stating that she is too busy to call me could just be a nice way to reject me, but that statement is not consistent with the invitation to her house. When I told this story to my brother, he said for me to stay away from her. She sounds like some sort of call girl. Whether she is or not will remain a mystery, because after all this nonsense, I would not date her anyway. Nevertheless, I have learned a great deal this week about my relationships with women. More importantly, I learned a great deal about myself. A year ago this time I was writing entries about how lonely I am and how I have no friends. What I have learned about myself is the fact that I must be myself and let people know me before they can start liking me. They will not like me first and get to know me later. Of course, with the “different” history that I seem to have, when they get to know me, they may not like me at all. That is a risk I will have to take, and that is why my potency is so dangerous. |