If You’re Having Girl Problems I Feel Bad For You Son
“Do you love her?” Hamburgers asked me, referring to my female companion, Sec-Z-Bec.
“Are you crazy?” I said. “I’ve only known her for three weeks. I don’t know, Hamburgers. I don’t even know what that means.”
Though his question would have never crossed my mind had I been in his shoes, I realized Hamburgers asked me for a reason—because it is a normal human curiosity. Is it also a normal human feeling after only spending time with a romantic interest for three weeks?
Hamburgers laughed at my inquiry into human nature. I kind of liked Sec-Z-Bec because she fit a set of requirements including physical attractiveness, humor, intelligence, and perceived interest in me. Love? C'mon, man.
One week later Hamburgers asked how things were going with Sec-Z-Bec. I laughed. “She’s starting to grow on me,” I said.
Sec-Z-Bec and I continued spending time with each other. And then, abruptly, she ended communication with me. I felt poorly, not because I loved her like crazy Hamburgers suggested, but because I thought I screwed something up. You see, I hate making mistakes—making the wrong purchase, ordering the wrong item at dinner, or saying the wrong thing. It is a selfish viewpoint: I just don’t want to regret my actions or inactions.
Sec-Z-Bec explained her flaky behavior, and assured me that it was nothing I did or didn’t do. I felt relieved. Communication and consuming calories together continued. And then, once again, Sec-Z-Bec distanced from me.
I am used to a sense of normalcy: the absence of pain, discomfort, fear and anxiety; and the presence of calm and content. Now for the second time I felt antsy, but this time was unrelated to regret, but rather a sense of loss.
Sec-Z-Bec inspired me. Because of her I now only drink unhealthy Coke Zeros on special occasions. I was always going to eliminate all visible body fat, but because of her I have accelerated my efforts. Above all, she inspired me to be more human. I have lost her, and not because of any fault of mine—she had internal issues that required resolution. My restlessness is because of this strange, human thing called sadness.
Friends used to whine to me about their girl problems. I could not understand what the big deal was because I hadn’t experienced what they were feeling. My friends prefaced their complaints with, “I know this is nothing compared to cancer, but…” I reminded them that everything in life is relative, and although I couldn’t relate to their pain and they couldn’t have related to mine, it was not my place to suggest mine was worse than theirs.
I get it, now. This pain has nothing to do with needle insertions or rehabilitation from cancer surgery. This is an entirely human pain. 2011 begins Benjamin 2.0: my ascension from superhuman (or inhuman) to human.
And so I will drown this pain like you might expect of me: by breaking the pedals off my spin bike and hitting my heavy bag with the force of a thousand men. I will not revert to destructive behavior like drinking alcohol. If I am tempted then I need only remind myself what Sec-Z-Bec has taught me.
Before receiving confirmation that my fling was over, I mentioned my troubles to my friend, TinyAppetite. I quoted the Jay-Z song “99 Problems” in which he raps: If you're havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son.
TinyAppetite shot back with a different Jay-Z rap: On to the next one.
“But I don’t want to move on to the next one,” I told TinyAppetite. “I really like this one.”
Well, Benjamin 2.0, maybe Jay-Z was right.
“Are you crazy?” I said. “I’ve only known her for three weeks. I don’t know, Hamburgers. I don’t even know what that means.”
Though his question would have never crossed my mind had I been in his shoes, I realized Hamburgers asked me for a reason—because it is a normal human curiosity. Is it also a normal human feeling after only spending time with a romantic interest for three weeks?
Hamburgers laughed at my inquiry into human nature. I kind of liked Sec-Z-Bec because she fit a set of requirements including physical attractiveness, humor, intelligence, and perceived interest in me. Love? C'mon, man.
One week later Hamburgers asked how things were going with Sec-Z-Bec. I laughed. “She’s starting to grow on me,” I said.
Sec-Z-Bec and I continued spending time with each other. And then, abruptly, she ended communication with me. I felt poorly, not because I loved her like crazy Hamburgers suggested, but because I thought I screwed something up. You see, I hate making mistakes—making the wrong purchase, ordering the wrong item at dinner, or saying the wrong thing. It is a selfish viewpoint: I just don’t want to regret my actions or inactions.
Sec-Z-Bec explained her flaky behavior, and assured me that it was nothing I did or didn’t do. I felt relieved. Communication and consuming calories together continued. And then, once again, Sec-Z-Bec distanced from me.
I am used to a sense of normalcy: the absence of pain, discomfort, fear and anxiety; and the presence of calm and content. Now for the second time I felt antsy, but this time was unrelated to regret, but rather a sense of loss.
Sec-Z-Bec inspired me. Because of her I now only drink unhealthy Coke Zeros on special occasions. I was always going to eliminate all visible body fat, but because of her I have accelerated my efforts. Above all, she inspired me to be more human. I have lost her, and not because of any fault of mine—she had internal issues that required resolution. My restlessness is because of this strange, human thing called sadness.
Friends used to whine to me about their girl problems. I could not understand what the big deal was because I hadn’t experienced what they were feeling. My friends prefaced their complaints with, “I know this is nothing compared to cancer, but…” I reminded them that everything in life is relative, and although I couldn’t relate to their pain and they couldn’t have related to mine, it was not my place to suggest mine was worse than theirs.
I get it, now. This pain has nothing to do with needle insertions or rehabilitation from cancer surgery. This is an entirely human pain. 2011 begins Benjamin 2.0: my ascension from superhuman (or inhuman) to human.
And so I will drown this pain like you might expect of me: by breaking the pedals off my spin bike and hitting my heavy bag with the force of a thousand men. I will not revert to destructive behavior like drinking alcohol. If I am tempted then I need only remind myself what Sec-Z-Bec has taught me.
Before receiving confirmation that my fling was over, I mentioned my troubles to my friend, TinyAppetite. I quoted the Jay-Z song “99 Problems” in which he raps: If you're havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son.
TinyAppetite shot back with a different Jay-Z rap: On to the next one.
“But I don’t want to move on to the next one,” I told TinyAppetite. “I really like this one.”
Well, Benjamin 2.0, maybe Jay-Z was right.