I went out recently to chill at a friends’ place to smoke. We got to chatting about the FWB I had mentioned to her via text and its unexpected termination, to switching to OKCupid, where I met the FWB. My friend wanted to take pics of me. I’ve only ever been photographed a handful of times with most during the last couple nights left in Orlando back in 2006, then again, but unbeknownst to me, at a bar with my ex and two of her friends. I mentally place myself in a plethora of groups and in that image, we fit. I also do this a lot upon meeting potential mates because if I can’t see you in my life then what’s the point, right. When my friend showed me the pics she took I realized that I don’t and will not ever belong in any group. I look forgettable, which answered the question that had always bothered me: why doesn’t anyone ever look for me. It’s because I’m not even an afterthought; more like never existed. These women move on so freely because it’s like whatever transpired between us never happened to begin with. They couldn’t see me in their lives in any capacity and therefore erased the memory of ever having come into contact with me.
Incidentally enough, I came up with this theory with this same friend one night while smoking in Central Park. She didn’t believe me but then again she completely forgot that we had sex some years ago which proved my point. I’m that forgettable, and I don’t know what to do with this information. It scares me because it means that I may never find happiness, that because I look like so many ex boyfriends to so many women nobody will want to see my face despite it being so common but they’ll settle for one “less like” said ex. Maybe I’ll never get published because of this reason since everyone seems to forget about me as it is so how can I expect my novels to have a lasting impact.
I’m fucking Roxas.
I also think I’m an emotional stepping stone for women. Somehow I find those who feel like they can never be loved and when I show them someone is capable of doing so, it clicks in their mind and decide that I served my purpose and therefore am no longer needed. This perpetual cycle of “do to them as they’ve done unto me” will only end in bitterness on their end because they’ll realize it isn’t their fault but rather can’t identify when someone is showing a genuine interest while mistaking it for the past repeating itself. How can you put up walls, want someone to knock them down, but see them as guilty before ever having the chance to prove innocent intentions?