I try to block society and their unrealistic expectations.
I try to ignore the hate in the world, and cultivate love.
Sometimes, I just can't.
My friends has a co-worker. A very cute, very eligible, "super awesome guy" coworker.
"He's funny, super attractive, and down-to-earth. You would make the PERFECT couple. I just know he'd love you."
I heard variations of this for over a month. I tried not to get my hopes up, but when someone promises, day after day, to your super single face that they've found your prince charming, it's hard not to get wrapped up in the silliness of it all.
I only saw his facebook profile. Very cute indeed. How could it be that this attractive, employed, and allegedly "perfect" guy exists? and he's single? and just happens to work with my best friend/pseudo-match maker?
OMG IT's FATE. IT HAS TO BE.
So fast forward to our meeting -- It was his 25th birthday and my friend purposefully extended me an invite to the office dinner gathering. I was giddy, making sure every hair was in place, every lash defined, and my outfit was on point (complete with Spanx, of course!). I was even wearing heels. I looked HOTT.
After two hours, stirring at the restaurant, he emerged in all his business casual glory. Studly. We would make a really cute couple. My friend had been right all along. Finally, my 22 year old virgin self, would be in a relationship again.
The evening was fun. Dinner turned into dessert (homemade cupcakes courtesy of my friends and I), and dessert turned into a visit to the karaoke bar, where in all my nervousness and attempt to impress, I became inebriated beyond comprehension.
Over the next few days, it became clear, upon my prying, that my prince charming "thought [I] was funny" but nothing more. Upon more prying, I learned it was because I wasn't his type, and by his type, I mean THIN.
You can imagine how this situation makes one feel.
We had every reason to be a perfect match, but we weren't...because of the way I looked. Even worse?
That was the best I'd thought I'd looked in ages. Very rarely do I have the time and energy to put forth the effort I did that night.
But it still wasn't good enough.
I wasn't good enough.
Slowly recovering from the sting of that one.
On top of that, I cut my hair off, and no one at work said a thing. I also tried on clothes at a store today, everything I tried either didn't fit or didn't fit right. To that I say, go away Friday.
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