Maybe I am in alone in that I fall in love with strangers…
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“A life worth living, is a life worth recording.” –Jim Rohn
I don’t want anyone I know to read this.
In the fall of 2010 I was a junior in high school. I weighed 280 pounds. By the spring of 2011, I was 210.
Nobody really knows why I lost that weight, or how I did it. But I do. And I lied to everyone.
I didn’t lose that weight because of the pain I felt finishing the run in gym class last. Nor because my entire class stared at me as I stumbled my way to the end.
I lost that weight because I was romantically rejected, and I felt so worthless.
She was in my gym class with me. I remember asking her for her number.
Agh, I can’t write this….
Breathe.
She said it was on her Facebook. So I made a Facebook account and checked hers. I couldn’t find it. That was my first encounter with Facebook. No wonder I hate it.
Sorry, where was I?
I remember how I asked her where it was, since I couldn’t find it. I don’t remember her response. But I know that we stopped talking to each other.
Maybe it’s the fact that we hardly knew each other that I am so embarrassed by this story. Maybe I am alone in that I fall in love with strangers. A lot has happened since then, and I don’t feel the same way as I did then, but I focused on every word she had said. Every action, movement, comment. Analyzed it, and tried to understand. I ran it over and over in my head. I don’t think that was the right thing to do.
My journal entry from 2015, a few months before I graduated from college:
“You cling to thoughts that are painful. Like they are life-giving. But maybe you are not a masochist, maybe it’s a coincidence. The thoughts that are most painful are also the thoughts that don’t make sense. And they don’t make sense because you would not act the same way other people would. Or would you? Why is she seeing other people?…”
The second time I was romantically rejected, I started to go to the gym to lift weights. People I knew in high school couldn’t recognize me, and it had only been a few years. The reason I want to share this story is because in my mind, I imagine someone like me out there; who doesn’t understand.
Why did this happen to me? Why does this hurt so much? And why do I keep reliving it over and over? It’s not a big deal, we didn’t even really know each other! But why do I feel this way? Maybe I’m wrong. But the maybe there is someone out there who can read this and relate.
I’m not going to tell you not to ruminate on the past, and I’m not going to tell you to continue to ruminate on the past.
I just want you to know, that you are not alone.
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