For as many times as people have told me that I am an insightful person, there are many ways where I am blind.
Much of this blindness is self-inflicted. I can remember back to my early teens thinking that life would happen for me like it did for others. I would think a girl is cute and she would think I am cute and we would become something together. It took a few years to realize that for me this would not just happen. It would be an agonizing struggle, that would crush my self-esteem and force me to try to view myself in an objective, albeit negative light.
Feeling like someone would want to be with me led to too much pain, so I had to believe myself to be someone that no one would want. It was easier this way. It also defined a path. Instead of simply accepting that I would be alone, I worked on every possible way to be better in hope that someday I would be good enough to the point where someone would find me acceptable. The cycle of rejection continued throughout my entire vanilla dating life.
Years later, these views have become a core part of my identity. They are who I am. I am the underdog. I am the boy that no one wanted. I am the one who has to be twice as good in order to be considered half as good. While I have found people who loved me, it was usually because I managed to become an indispensable part of their life. Beyond that I cannot fathom someone choosing except as a consolation, settling, or as their plan Z.
This makes me blind.
I don’t recognize when someone is interested in me because they couldn’t be interested in me, right?
I live in a world that is affection-starved. While I have connected online, warmth has been absent from my life for years.
The blindness makes me simple. The desperation makes me weak.
This combination has brought pain to both others and myself over the years. I don’t know if I will ever be able to grow beyond it, or if it is here for good.