09/30/2012

So.  Twenty-five years old, and I went on my first date yesterday. 

No one’s ever asked me before, and I was so surprised when he did that I said yes.  I immediately regretted it.

But, I didn’t stand him up, even though I nearly had a panic attack outside the care where we were meeting.  Even though entering the building took more willpower than I thought I possessed. 

I was kind of proud of myself, as sad as that is.

He paid for lunch, which is, I think, traditional.  I was not opposed because, being unemployed for almost a year now, my funds are generally insufficient.  I had broccoli-cheddar soup, which was decent, I think, though I was too anxious to taste it much.

Hmm.  Okcupid boy is nearly as socially awkward as I am, but not quite.  Considering I am very likely on the autism spectrum (or I have schizoid personality disorder, which my therapist a decade ago seemed to think), he would have been hard pressed to out-awkward me.

I suppose we have a lot in common.  We both like computers, and video games, and cats.  Caffeine, though we don’t drink coffee.

I honestly don’t even know if it was a “date” per se, or if it was more of a “let’s be friends” kind of thing.  I don’t like ambiguity.

It’s just…I feel like I’m leading him on.  He’s nice, and I could totally see hanging out, playing video games, geeking out over superhero movies.  But anything else?  Nope.

And it’s because I’m stunted, or fucked up, or whatever.  In so many ways.  Most girls are all “Woo hoo, I got a date!” and I’m all, “This is getting in the way of the time I had set aside for doing my genetics homework.”  I resent the imposition on my free time.  In 25 years, I’ve never had a boyfriend and that suits me just fucking fine. 

I wasn’t expecting sparks or anything.  But I was hoping for more than…indifference.  He wants to do it again sometime, and I’m completely fucking indifferent.  And it’s not his fault.  It’s all me.

But, back to the leading people on thing.  Can asexuals have relationships?  I don’t know.  I have no interest in sex, and that’s a pretty crucial part of most adult relationships.  I can’t expect someone to want me, can’t expect them to accept that I will never want to have sex.  That’s just cruel.  I feel like I should be upfront about it, but at the same time, it’s not something that you bring up on the first date.

THEN, on top of the asexual thing, I’m about 9 different kinds of crazy, and I cannot expect someone to accept all of that.  There’s the self-injury, which, despite what I might tell myself, is not getting any better.  There’s the self-loathing, which is pervasive.  The schizoid/autistic thing, where I have no real feelings for anyone.  The commitment issues.  The anger problems.  The soul-crushing fear of intimacy.

I don’t belong in a relationship.  I have no business pursuing one.  I don’t even know if I want one—I want to feel less alone, less desperately isolated, but I don’t think I can make that kind of connection with another person, so why bother trying?  It’s a hopeless fucking endeavor.

I just feel…worthless.  And…shitty.  And alone.