Unrequited
I would never have written a 75,000-word manuscript about something I didn’t have expertise in.
When I suddenly decided two years ago to take a stab at a book, I knew it was going to have to be about something I knew some shit about. Problem is I’m not an expert at a lot of things. I’m great at a lot of things, but I can’t say I’m an expert at them. Really, when I take stock of my life over the last couple of decades, the only thing I’ve undisputedly mastered is becoming completely. fucking. obsessed with dudes who aren’t even close to being obsessed with me. Honest to god I could teach a university course about it.
First of all let me address the fact that suffering from chronic one-sided love disease is most certainly a first world problem. Habitually making poor romantic choices and investing in emotionally unavailable men is by no means a unique sob story, in fact this blog is a drop in the ocean. But I’m not trying to say I’m unique, nor am I (currently) sobbing about it. I’m just saying I’m an expert.
Who knows why my life story is littered with so many tales of unrequited love. Who knows why I seem predisposed to pouring my heart and fucking soul into dudes who don’t text back. The dude always changes, but the feeling is always the same. And as anyone who has ever suffered from a hearty bout of unrequited love will attest, the feeling is a fucking heartfuck.
Every time I fall for a guy who isn’t falling back, I’m always amazed at the sheer volume of deep and nuanced feelings I have for him that I just have to discard, without putting them to any use at all. It’s hard to understand why, as a human, I’m wired to become completely enamoured and entranced by every ounce of another human, able to spend hours, days, months thinking about him and feeling inspired by him, while he’s over there, not feeling that way at all. It’s not so much of a woe is me thing, as a what the fuck thing. Why am I built to burn so much energy for guys who aren’t burning shit for me? Why are we wired to conjure up all of these massive feelings that are just destined to go to waste?
If I did teach a university course on unrequited love I’d definitely have a unit on leveraging the energy of it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve taken my breathtaking adoration for a guy and channeled it into my work – with really inspiring results! For some sad-yet-productive reason I get next-level inspired by the guys I’m into, and that inspiration can fuel me better than coffee. It’s amazing how much I can excel at life when there’s a certain guy whose attention and admiration I want. In the end, I always end up getting crushed when I finally accept he’s not into me, but the byproduct is that I’ve been super productive and made my life better. So, you know, silver lining, right?
There’s a reason I called this blog Slutty Heart. All I have to do is decide a guy is attractive and even a bit lovely, and my heart is ready to dive right in. If my heart wore pants I would say that it drops them WAY too fast for a guy. Every time I decide I like someone, my heart just puts all the fucking chips on the table and is like, let’s fucking do this, he’s perfect, this is the one you’ve been waiting for, ALL IN.
Having a slutty heart isn’t about being a slut, but it is about giving it up too fast. I gave my heart up to guys way too fast, way too often, for like 20 fucking years. Then I wrote a book about it. Then I wrote a year’s worth of blogs about it. And after spending so much time writing about it and posting it for whomever to see, it feels like I’ve given up my heart in a different way. Like I’ve given it up to anyone and everyone who chooses to read this damned thing. And that feels better than I thought it would. Definitely better than giving it up to some guy who doesn’t even want it.
If I’ve learned anything from writing this blog for the last year, it’s that I still love giving my heart up to someone. In fact, the more I’ve given in up on here, the more I want to do it in the future. To more people. And I’m not sure if that makes me a slut or crazy or both, but I’m cool with it, as long as it makes me a better writer.














