On being vulnerable

This is a cop out post because I’m really just posting a TED Talk, but I’ll give it a bit of a preface:

I suck at being vulnerable. I can handle pain and stress and grief. I can be perky even when I’m tired and I can talk to just about anyone. But what I didn’t really realize until watching this is that what I really struggle with is allowing people to see me with all of my faults. I spend a lot of time putting on facades. I guess we all do to some degree. The difference is that I don’t know how to go without them. I like people to see me as this sunshiny, smart, determined, witty, put together girl. Even my close friends and family. Maybe especially them. The idea of the people I care about seeing all of my fears and insecurities scares me so much. I know they’ll love me anyway, but I still don’t want them to think of me that way. I guess mostly I don’t want their pity.

Brene Brown says that we need to be vulnerable in order to connect with people, and I can feel intuitively that she’s right. I just don’t know if I can do it. Being with Nob is amazing, but also terrifying because he sees through my facade. He just has this way of knowing when I’m nervous or scared or worried even when my smile fools everyone else. It’s one of the things I like about him, but it also freaks me out. Part of me just wants to push him away when he gets too close to knowing the real me.

Anyway, check out this video. Even if it doesn’t reveal deep-seeded issues the way it did for me, it’s also just really entertaining and informative.

 

But seriously what is with St. Patrick’s Day?

I was so not prepared for yesterday.

I was not prepared for all of the people drunk at 8am. I’m not even conscious at 8am. Why would I drink alcohol that early? It’s a depressant for goodness sakes.

I was certainly not prepared for all the tacky green dollar store St. Patrick’s Day gear everyone was wearing. It’s the kind of junk you would never be caught with sober, but apparently drunk people this it’s the best thing ever. My green t shirt is not enough, they think (I’m assuming). I also need six strings of green plastic beads, a green hat that keeps falling off due to my drunken stumbling, and green sunglasses I keep trying to put on other people’s faces but I actually just poke them in the eye.

I mean, I live in a university dorm. I’m pretty used to people drinking a lot, and to be honest, I drink pretty damn often. I’ve definitely gotten drunk on a Monday night before. But I still don’t get the mass hysteria around St. Patrick’s Day. Why is it so important to drink that exact night? And why so much? Because the thing is that no one got fun drunk last night. Everyone got where-are-my-pants blackout worst-hangover-of-your-life how-did-I-even-get-home drunk. Everyone. On the same night. Half of my friend’s Spanish class took their midterm while sipping green beer out of their water bottles. A different friend has band aids all over her hands from a fall she doesn’t remember. When I was walking down the stairs of my dorm last night I ran into a guy who was unzipping his pants to pee over the railing. I politely asked him to wait until I was gone before he did it.

And what did I do last night? I studied. Yep, nerd alert. Then my friend texted me that she had just broken up with her boyfriend, so I went over with an armload of candy. Honestly, even spending the night with my econ textbook and my sobbing friend still seems more appealing than making poor decisions wearing a lot of plastic green things.

God, I sound really old.

What every student should know about university residence

-It will be loud. All the time. “Quiet hours” are a lie, so if doors slamming, yelling, or drunken yodelling bother you, invest in earplugs

-People on your floor know everything about your life. Even if you’ve never talked to them. A girl from down the hall once came up to me and was like, “Who’s that guy you always have over? He’s really cute. Are you dating him? You should date him.” That was the first conversation I’d ever had with her.

-Everything will smell like weed always

-Don’t try to get anything done on Thursday nights

-There will always be someone drinking. Even on a Tuesday afternoon, and even during finals. Okay, especially during finals.

-Everyone’s fridges really only end up containing alcohol and maybe some hummus. Hummus makes really good drunk food.

-There will always be someone drinking their seventh cup of coffee

-There will always be that person who never gets out of their pyjamas, and as far as you know, never goes to class. Is there a degree in playing video games I don’t know about?

-In spite of the fact that you all live a few feet away from each other, people play online video games together in separate rooms

-At any given second someone is always saying “I should be doing school work right now” while watching youtube videos, playing video games, or just lying in bed doing absolutely nothing

-Half the floor is always sick. I swear, we just pass the same cold back and forth over and over

-No one knows where the library is

-Like three people on the floor know how to do laundry and they have to teach everyone else. Scratch that. All of the girls know how to do laundry and like three of the guys do. Not sexist if it’s true.

-No one has ever attempted to clean their bathroom

-The vacuum has been used maybe four times. Two out of four times were to vacuum up puke.

On debating

I really never wanted to join the university debate club. I just wanted to go to IKEA. No, actually, that’s how it happened.

And yet, I’ve spent three of the last four weekends at debate tournaments, and almost all of my friends in university belong to debate. We literally go to other universities, stand in rooms, and talk for hours. And then we do it again the next day. With this in mind, I think it’s very valid to ask, how the hell did this happen? What the hell am I doing with my life? Let me explain.

I met Lena (I asked her which character she related with in the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants and she picked Lena, so that’s now her name) because she lived down the hall from me in residence. My first impression of her was that she was a bit too much a try hard, with her tailored blazers and little pencil skirts. Like geez, this is a dorm, not the UN. She was fun to talk to  though, and frankly, I had met very few people on my floor who I actually wanted to hang out with. Most of the rest were engineering students who alternated between doing physics, playing video games, and watching hockey, which are basically my three least favourite things.

So when Lena invited me to go on this special student shuttle to IKEA one night a couple weeks into school, I was down. I figured it would at least be something to do. The hitch was that Lena had to make a detour before we left. She promised it wouldn’t take more than an hour, she just had to go to this meeting thing.

Sure, I thought. I didn’t really have anything better to do. It was the second week of university so I didn’t really even have homework yet.

The “meeting thing” turned out to be a debate club meeting, and Lena, it turned out, was on the Canadian national team for high school debate. In other words, she was kind of a big deal in the debate community. When she showed up at the meeting members of the club already knew who she was.

I found all of this news mildly bemusing. I thought it was funny that there was a “debate community” and a national team and everything. I mean seriously, it’s just people arguing. How intense could it really be?

Super intense, as it turned out. At the meeting, the senior members did a demo round to show what debate was like in university. Not only was it intense, but it was also really interesting, and smart and…entertaining. I never would have seen that coming. What honestly drew me in was that all the debaters just looked like they were having such a good time. There they were, standing up talking about smart things, but also adding in jokes and good natured teasing. The debate I saw was about whether a total surveillance state was a good idea, and the debaters made jokes about their rights to watch BDSM porn in the privacy of their own home. They actually had the whole room laughing by the end.

When we left to go to IKEA, Lena told me straight up that she wouldn’t be offended if I told her I thought it was stupid. She said she new debating was kind of a ridiculous use of her time, but that it was something she had done for a really long time and she personally enjoyed it. I think I shocked her when I said that I was interested in going to the next meeting.

It just kind of snowballed from there. I went to the next meeting, then to a full day training session for beginners, then to one tournament, then another. At this point I think I’ve spent about a quarter of my weekends in university at debate tournaments.

It’s worth noting that not only am I not very good at debating, but I also don’t particularly care about becoming any good. For me it’s just about being around people who want to talk about important issues. The way one debate friend described it was that debaters don’t just talk about the “whats” in life-what you want to do, what you like, what you want to be-but also the “whys.” Debate is about calling your beliefs into question; you have to justify your choices and your reasoning. We don’t just talk like that in debates, but outside of them too.

I think the idea of thinking “whys” appeals to me because I’ve always thought like that. It’s a characteristic that shows in my writing, especially in this blog. I tend to write about something that happened, then how I feel about it, then speculate as to why I feel that way. What’s cool is that now I have a group of friends to talk like this with, instead of just turning over these thoughts in my own brain.

I’ve become close with four girls in debate, all first years.  What’s funny is even though I’ve only known them for a few months, I already feel as close to them as I do with friends I’ve known for years. Maybe it’s because residence forces people to become close. Maybe it’s because we’ve already spent so many weekends together for debate. Maybe it’s just the massive amount of wine we consume together. Whatever the reason, I’ve found people I belong with here. That’s a pretty special thing.

Okay, so maybe I should have seen this coming

What happened with Nob threw me off, to say the least. It still doesn’t feel real, even now, two weeks later. It feels especially like a daydream because he lives in a different city and I haven’t seen him since. We’ve been texting, and he wants to Skype sometime soon. Maybe then it’ll feel real.

I think the problem is that I’ve spent the last three years convincing myself that we were never going to work out. I was reading old entries from my old journal the other day, and the more I read, the more I realized that I was really just in denial. 

Here is an overview, for your reading pleasure. These were actual things I wrote about Ryan throughout high school.

First, there was a blog post in May of Grade 10 (Full post here):

Nob is incredible. He’s funny, and mature and interesting and smart and he’s willing to talk about Glee with me even at the risk of looking like a nerd for doing so.  He’s my first big crush since starting school in the city, and I can barely hold back the crazy teenage squealing that threatens to leave me lips every time someone mentions his name.  I am close to Facebook stalking him, I wait with shivering anticipation for every class I have with him, and it’s so difficult not to blush every time we’re face to face. Butterflies in my stomach is an understatement.

Not a lot happened after that. I think I was probably too shy. Probably he was too. And honestly, my mom had just died. For a lot of that next few months I was just trying to get through the day.

Then there was a journal entry almost a year later, on January 25, 2012:

It happened in one moment, like flicking on a light switch. How do I describe it? Everything I thought I knew was swept out from under me, making me question all of it. Now that I know, deeply and completely, that I like Nob, it makes me wonder, do birds really fly? Are mountains even real, or are they just images painted on the horizon?

Oh dear. I think I thought I was being poetic. It’s weird though, because I guess I had that epiphany, but then immediately changed my mind. There’s another entry a few days later which is essentially just me trying to write out how I’m going to say to Nob that I just want to be friends. That month we had gone on a couple dates, just coffee and skating and stuff. I kept flip flopping back and forth between really liking him and feeling like the whole situation was just too awkward and forced. In the end I guess I decided to just end it before it started. This is what I wrote on February 1, 2012:

Hey Ryan, can I talk to you for a sec? *take a deep breath* I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I’ve realized that I just want us to be friends. I’m sorry for leading you on this long. *get ready to walk away* Oh, and Ryan? The next time you like a girl, be confident about it. Because you are a really great guy.

I think when I actually told him in real life it wasn’t quite that eloquent, but the general message was there. 

That same month I started dating Patt, which is weird looking back, because I barely knew him. I don’t exactly know why I was okay with dating Patt when I had been so nervous about dating Nob. There are a few entries about Patt throughout February and March, but none of them are particularly heartfelt or meaningful. I’m surprised it took me until April to break up with him.

Meanwhile, Nob started dating this completely ridiculous girl. Let’s call her Deb. Deb was…not very smart. At all. I suspect that’s why I never really saw Nob and Deb having a conversation. Mostly they just made out. Everywhere. All the time. Did I mention that Nob’s locker was next to mine?

The thing is, I kept trying to convince myself that I was mad about Nob dating Deb because they were annoying. Or else I tried to say that it was because I thought (as a friend of course) that he could do better. Except there are entries like this one, from April 11, 2012. Probably within a week after I broke up with Patt. (It’s a poem, don’t laugh)

This gold necklace

links crunched together

crumpled in my hand

A gesture that says

in no uncertain terms

“Mine, all mine.”

But your dusty blonde hair

those eyes that question me 

like I question myself

Arms that could encircle me

a hula hoop, but softer and stronger

I can’t crumple that in my hand

you don’t fit in my pocket

or behind a combination lock

So how could she know? 

Looking at you,

How could she know 

that even when your arms encircle her waist,

you are always

crumpled in my hand

in no uncertain terms

mine.

Kind of possessive and creepy, I’ll admit. But it’s also kind of cute. And it’s clear proof that as much as I liked to pretend we were just friends for the next two years, we really never were. Two weeks later, on April 21, there is another entry that more explicitly explains my feelings. From what I remember it was the day after Jan had a party and I had spent most of the night with Nob. His girlfriend wasn’t there, probably because he knew that none of us really liked her.

Nob frustrates me and annoys me and sometimes I just don’t get him. but what matters is that I want to get him. I want to push through his defences and really know him. I want to cause him to give me that look again, that one of honest surprise when I say something that completely disarms him. I want to make him smile, really smile, not because he’s forcing it, or putting on an act, but because for a moment, I made him happy.

I can feel my morals getting blurry here. It’s so easy to imagine grabbing his hand, imagine his arms–so strong and beautiful–wrapped tightly around my waist. It’s so easy to forget that I waited too long and he has a girlfriend now. I know it’s wrong. I know it doesn’t make sense. Most importantly, I know that it is extremely likely that he doesn’t think about me that way at all anymore. I mean, the way he talks about her…and when he’s not talking about her he’s texting her, and when he’s not texting her he’s doing other things with her…

But the way he looked at me last night, how can I discount that? I still have the power to make him laugh, really laugh, catch him off guard, and corner his attentions. It only that were enough. If only it wasn’t too late.

So yeah. Friends thing wasn’t working out so well at that point. Then there’s a lot of entries about how I don’t really want/need a boyfriend, then some more about some random crushes in the summer. It gets interesting again around November. Nob had finally broken up with Deb a couple months before, and he and my best friend Dee had started hooking up. I pretended like it was no big deal when she talked about it. I think to her it was this really casual thing, but I’m not sure what Nob thought. As for me, I wanted them to break it off. My motivations seem pretty unclear.

I don’t like him that way. I had my chance with him and I turned him down. It’s not like I would ever date him. And her? She’s my friend and I should want her to be happy. If he makes her happy I should encourage them. Except I think I preferred her when she was jaded and lonely like me. If we were going to be miserable at least we could do it together. 

If they got together I don’t think I could handle it. Even if they avoided PDAs and they tried their best to include me. Actually, I’d rather they didn’t include me. If I’m going to be alone, I’d rather be able to go home and scream into a pillow instead of pretending to smile and have fun with them. 

That got pretty dark and bitter. I was going through this phase where I was obsessed with falling in love and I was mad at anyone who was in a relationship. Or I suppose you could interpret the bitterness as jealousy. I’m not sure at this point; you be the judge.

Sometime after that the entries get less boy focused. There’s that brief thing with Tim, and I make out with a few guys at parties, but that’s it. Notably, at one point I made out with Nob’s best friend Drew, but nothing ever happened with that. Then the entries start to be more about my trip to  Kenya and my plans for the future. Nob isn’t mentioned again. So maybe I did get over him and we finally became friends, or maybe I just figured out how to push away my feelings for him. Either way, when he started dating my friend Rea in the summer it wasn’t a big deal to me. He seemed really happy with her, and it was a way healthier relationship than the one he had with Deb. I’m not going to say that I never thought about us being together, but I recognized that I was going away to university and so was he. Frankly, I was ready to move on.

So that’s why even though there was all this history, I really never expected anything to happen with Nob. When I look back at this stuff it almost seems kind of inevitable, but it never felt like that for me. If anything, it was quite the opposite. Finally being with him felt kind of miraculous.

There are no words for this

I’m never at a loss for words. It’s one of those things that I’ve always been sure of, the same way my eyes have always been blue and so has the sky. I’ve never had this “writer’s block” thing I hear about. In fact, I have always had the opposite problem; I have too much to write. I have so many words bubbling over in my head that I often can’t write fast enough to catch them all. Maybe this explains why I have such cramped, scrawly writing instead of the round bubble kind I see other girls use.

So yeah. Words are usually my friend. Except for right now.

I have never ever felt like this. I keep trying to describe it and I just can’t without using awful clichés like “It feels like a dream.” I kind of make myself want to vomit. Except that I’m also too happy to be upset with myself.

This is the short form of what happened. There were more events leading up to it, and I will probably fill them in at some point, but basically I spent last weekend at Nob’s university at a debate tournament. I actually have a lot of friends who go there; Lyd, Drew and Andy go there too, but I instead stayed with people I knew from debate. I hadn’t planned to visit any of my friends from home; I didn’t even tell them I was coming. Schedules for debate tournaments are usually packed, between the debating itself and the after parties, so I figured there was no point, especially since I had seen everyone over Christmas holidays. I would just have a fun weekend with my debate friends, I figured.

Except the thought of Nob was constantly at the back of my mind. This new tension had developed between us over the holidays and I couldn’t quite figure out why it had happened or what it meant. In Grade 12 we had always clearly defined ourselves as friends, and he was dating someone else for a large amount of it. I think that’s when we became so comfortable together; we became closer and closer over the course of the year. The best part of our friendship was the fact that we could speak so honestly and frankly with each other. We talked about our families and our futures and we always called each other on our bullshit. In August he asked me if he should try to make long distance work with his girlfriend when he went away for school, and I told him I thought it was a really bad idea. I swear I didn’t have any ulterior motives for that advice; I just had his best interests in mind. I knew that Nob is the type to pour everything into a relationship, and it would take away from his first year and he would end up being miserable.

In December there were no deep life talks though. We talked about safe things, our friends and politics and parties. I could feel us avoiding anything that might force into honesty. We sat in his house on opposite sides of the couch, always leaving a few feet between each other. I was scared to look him in the eye and instead found myself staring at my hands in my lap as we talked. When I left we hugged, which was normal enough, but we both held on a second too long. That was it though, a second. Then there were some jokes and see you laters, even though later meant months and we both knew it. As I drove away I was shaking a little.

Which brings me to Saturday night. It was 3am and I was sitting in an all night restaurant sharing a poutine with my friend as we discussed the party we had just left. I was trying to listen to her, but I just kept thinking about where Nob was, wondering if he might walk past the restaurant window at any moment. Occasionally a tall guy in an engineering jacket would walk by and for a second I would think it was him and my hands would start to shake again. Finally I decided that I was being stupid. Of course I should see my friend. I was in his city; it just made sense.

I texted him and told him I was in town and that we should hang out Sunday. He agreed. We tried to pretend it was no big deal, just friends hanging out.

And it was, at first. We went out for burgers. I told him some funny anecdotes about debate and he told me about crazy things his floor mates had done the night before. There were signals that this lunch was different than others though. For one, he was supposed to meet up with friends to go looking at houses to rent for next year and he cancelled on them. I told him that I understood if he had to go, but he said it was fine so I didn’t push it. I tried not to over think why he might do that.

Then we went back to his dorm room. When I say it like that it sounds like he had a plan to hook up with me all along, but I don’t think he did. It didn’t feel weird at the time, anyway. In residence your dorm room is your bedroom, yes, but it’s also your living room and your kitchen. It seemed like a natural place to go.

We talked some more. We looked up stuff on the internet, political things and memes and whatever. Then I spotted a Lego set on top of his dresser. It was the same set we had built together over the holidays when he had a bunch of people over. We’re playing with this, I told him. At first he scoffed at the idea, but I know Nob and I knew he wanted to play. Sure enough, he picked up the space ship and I launched catapults at it and we both made explosion sounds and narrated a dramatic battle which ended with total destruction and a single survivor.

I remember thinking that I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I remember thinking that I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I remember wondering how I had gotten so lucky as to meet a boy who would sit in his bedroom and play Lego with me.

We kissed. I’m not sure who started it to be honest and I like that. He had this brazen look in his eyes and he looked so certain that when our lips touched, I was certain. I was certain that I wanted to be with this boy, and that changed everything.

I don’t really need to explain what happened next, but I will say it was amazing. I found myself wondering why I had ever even bothered kissing other guys before this. All of those other kisses, all of those other guys, they didn’t even compare to this. You can’t even plot it on the same spectrum.

All of that built up tension evaporated instantly. I don’t know how long we just laid nose to nose, breathing in the moment.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I finally said.

“I didn’t think it was ever going to happen,” he replied. “I had pretty much given up hope.”

“Classic us,” I said, laughing. “We finally figure our shit out once we live in different cities.”

I eventually had to go; I had a bus to catch back to school. We didn’t exchange any promises or make any attempt to make sense of what had happened. There was this unspoken feeling that it wasn’t over though. Before I left he kissed my smile one more time with that brazen look on his face. On the elevator and down the street and packing my things and in the taxi and at the Greyhound station I smiled and smiled. My lips were still tingling to remind me that it really happened.

I feel like all the clichés, even now. I’m walking on air and the whole world looks beautiful and different. I always thought those clichés could never apply to me, and yet here I am. I must have been smiling as I daydreamed while I waited for my omelet at the cafeteria this morning, because the omelet guy just grinned at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking about. I found myself wondering if I look as different as I feel.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop smiling.

The time I had a boyfriend and didn’t know it

Every time I meet up with high school friends this week someone inevitably asks, “So Kay, any boys in your life?”

Kay: No. Well yeah. But no not actually. But I kind of had a boyfriend for a month. But not actually.

HS friend: Whaa?

Then I launch into the story about how I had a boyfriend for a month and didn’t realize it. At first I felt a mixture of sadness and embarrassment about the whole thing, but the more I tell it, the more I’ve come to appreciate how funny the whole situation was.

So remember Mickey? He’s that cute baseball player I went on a fun, unorthodox date with back in November.  Yep, that’s right, this story is about him. I enjoyed myself on that date, but after seeing Mickey in class later that week, I realized that there really wasn’t anything romantic between us. I liked hanging out with him because he’s smart and gets my strange brand of humour, but I know from experience that for me those sorts of friendships never turn into anything more. Hanging out with Mickey was fun, but he didn’t spark any particularly powerful feelings from me. I decided we were better off as study buddies.

I was totally prepared to tell him this, but the opportunity never really came up because he never asked me on another date. At one point I asked him to come with me to see Catching Fire because I knew he loves the Hunger Games as much as I do, but frankly there was nothing date-y about it. I paid for my own ticket for one thing (I know a guy doesn’t have to pay for the girl to make it a date, but it’s sometimes a good signal) and at no point did he try to make a move. Great, I thought. It’s nice to have a guy friend to do this sort of thing with.

We continued to sit together in lecture and do our Econ homework in my dorm room every week. At one point he suggested studying in his room even though the wifi is worse, because he wanted me to meet his floor mates. In retrospect, that should have been a warning signal for me that he thought our friendship was something more. I never twigged though. I just assumed he wanted me to be friends with his friends.

Then the day of the Econ final came along. It was my last final, so I was really excited to be done. The exam was in the morning and my flight home was that evening. After the final Mickey texted me seeming upset that I had left the final without him. He really wanted to see me before I left, he added. I had a lot of stuff to cram into that afternoon because I had already planned to hang out with some friends from the debate club and I had to pack, so I told him that he was welcome to come with me while I walked to the post office to mail Lis’ Christmas gift. He seemed perfectly normal during the walk, but then on our way back he told me I had to come up to his dorm room because I had left something there when we were studying the night before.

Now, okay I’m not stupid; I knew I hadn’t left anything in his room. Maybe he was just inviting me up to give me a  Christmas card, I thought. I really hoped it was just a Christmas card. Please God, let it just be a Christmas card.

We entered his room. There were not one, but two carefully wrapped gifts sitting on the bed. I tried not to freak out.

Kay (in a careful voice): You didn’t have to get me anything

Mickey: Of course I didn’t have to. I just wanted to.

Kay: Mickey, I…I don’t think this was ever going to work out between us.

Mickey: What do you mean?

Kay: Like us dating. I didn’t really think we connected. Like that way. Like I like hanging out with you, but it never felt like anything more to me (I say ‘like’ a lot when I’m nervous)

Mickey: So…I guess…this past month we weren’t really dating then?

What I wanted to say: FUCK NO I THOUGHT THAT WAS OBVIOUS!!!

What I actually said: No, it never felt that way for me.

Silence.

Kay: I should go.

Mickey: No, you should open your presents.

Kay: I can’t accept these.

Mickey: Well I bought them for you so you have to.

I opened them. A book that the cover recommended “for fans of the Hunger Games.” A Doctor Who poster. The kind of thoughtful gifts that come from someone who desperately wants to know you, but only really knows the surface. I guess we never really talked about much more than books and TV shows. That right there really should have been a signal for him that we weren’t in a relationship, in case the lack of dates and kissing in the last month wasn’t already a giveaway.

I thanked him, we hugged awkwardly, and then I left. As I walked down the stairs of his building I found a note in the wrappings:

“To my girlfriend, love Mickey.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Girlfriend?? Seriously? It was one thing for him to think we were dating, and even getting me gifts wasn’t totally ridiculous, but calling me his girlfriend sure was. I thought it was a truth universally known that you have to FUCKING ASK SOMEONE BEFORE YOU DECLARE THEM YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!?

He had seemed so normal, too. He wasn’t socially awkward in any way, he was good-looking, and he played a varsity sport. I guess based on those traits I had just assumed he had some dating experience. Even if he had none, I had assumed that he at least knew about dating from TV or something at least. Maybe this is how dating works where he’s from? I don’t know!! I’m so frustrated because I feel bad about this even though I didn’t do anything wrong.

I didn’t, right? I mean, going on one date does not mean you’re suddenly in a relationship. Hanging out a couple times a week studying does not mean you’re dating. And aren’t you supposed to tell someone you just met that you’re buying them a Christmas gift? AND THAT YOU’VE DECIDED THAT THEY’RE YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND? I’m not just making this up, right?! I’m pretty sure these are social norms!!

It’s incidents like this that make me want to give up dating indefinitely.