I recently got a fortune from a fortune cookie that read “it is what you haven’t done that will torment you.” And I have decided to make that my new thing. Whether it’s giving the cute guy at the bar my number even though he didn’t ask, or having the balls to tell someone how I feel about them. Because, well, I graduate from college in less than six months, and I need to make sure I go out without any “man, I wish I….” moments. So I’m doing it all. Even if it means rejection, or getting b*tch slapped by a girl who hates me.
It started when I decided I needed to tell an ex-fling-thing that I miss him. But not via drunken text message. Instead, we met in front of the library and I ranted like an adult. Sort of. Kinda. I told him I missed him, that I miss how I feel when I’m around him, and that he brought out the best in me. I told him that I hated myself for wanting him. I apologized for wanting to meet with him and tell him a bunch of really mean things, even though we never actually met. I spilled my guts out. In the middle of the quad. With a bunch of middle schoolers walking by (I still have no idea why they were there.) And he just sort of looked at me, and told me that he was sorry. And I told him I know. That I just needed him to hear this stuff. He offered for us to be friends, but I made it very clear that I’m not interested in that. That we can’t be “just friends.” However immature that may be.
So I spilled my guts and I didn’t have my romantic comedy reconnection moment. We parted ways and waved good-bye, no kissing or hugging or shaking hands. I went back to the library to continue my work and he went to do whatever. And I felt so… light. The whole moment was a sigh of relief. Even though we will never rekindle our romance and my feelings for him will never be requited, I felt so wonderfully good. Because I told him how I felt. To his face. Sober.
My second act of doing things was at a bar last week. I was with friends, drunk enough to get my groove on (but sober enough to still be confused by the Gangham Style dance) when a guy made eye contact with me from across the room. Very Disney Princess-esque. I was walking in his general direction (which was towards the bar) and he stopped me and introduced himself. We started talking and it turns out we both have Irish names and live near each other. Aside from that, we had virtually nothing in common. But he was super cute. And friendly. And I was doing the whole “doing things” thing. So he left to grab a drink (most likely because our conversation was lack luster) and I realized that I was probably not going to see him again. But he was super cute. And friendly. So, as I grabbed my jacket to leave about an hour later, we bumped into one another again and he asked if I was leaving. I told him to give me his phone. And he did. And I handed it back to him with my number programmed into it. Super ballsey. Super aggressive. Super not me.
He hasn’t asked to get together and it’s been a week.
But you know what? Who cares! I had the chutzpah to just put my number in his phone, totally unwarranted, even though our conversation sucked. Because if I didn’t do it then, I would have never done it. And who knows? Maybe we’re both very compatible but just both very terrible at small talk. Maybe we will cross paths when at our mutual home when we’re home for the holidays. Or maybe we will never speak/see each other/make out. But I could care less. Because I did it. And it won’t torment me like that weird, way too heavy, fortune cookie said.
I’ve also decided to apologize to every girl I’ve ever even remotely been a b**** to . Because life is too short to harbor negative energy. Plus, I learned recently that often the things you despise in someone else, are actually the things you dislike about yourself. So, it’s just totally not fair to be nasty, or “hate” someone because you think they’re overbearing, overeager, and dumb. Chances are, you’re afraid those are qualities you have in yourself. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen anyone on my apology list.
I know everyone makes fun of Drake (for being Wheelchair Jimmy Brooks, among other things) but his outlook on life as YOLO really holds true. Not only do we ONLY LIVE ONCE but we also only get one opportunity to do things. Maybe two. And we have to take advantage of these moments whenever we can. You might never see the cute guy at Mug Night again. You might never actually have the guts to tell someone how you feel aside from that one moment of courage. You might not ever have the chance to go for the kiss. Or the hug. Or the handshake. Or the apology.
So yeah, I have had terrible awful luck. And yeah, both of these situations did not work out in my favor, or as I had them planned out in my head. But the fact of the matter is… I did it. I took action. I performed. I did things. And they were awesome. And maybe it’s silly that I’m taking such advice from a fortune cookie. But it’s better than a Magic 8 Ball. I guess.