Second Chances in Relationships – Right or Wrong?
The other day my SEO chick was reading this post about relationships and about how second chances in relationships shouldn’t be a thing, and not only did it piss her off, it pissed me off too.
When I first met my girlfriend–who is actually my fiance (since we agreed to get married and all… just kinda feels weird sayin that shit: “fiance”), anyway I lost focus, point is when we first got together, she wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone. She was driving me crazy. But you know what? She never gave up and I found that sexy and somewhat annoying but also endearing, and finally she won me over and now we’re picking out rings. So for me, there’s no “right way” to sort through people and build relationships. Love is complicated and it grows up sideways sometimes.
Back to what I was sayin though… When I first met my girlfriend–fuck, fiance. I gotta get used to sayin that… Anyway, when we met, we were at some sober rafting trip I talked myself into goin to cause usually I hate that shit but I said to myself:
“No. I need to find a sober chick with a fat ass. That’ll keep me mentally healthy and physically lustful.”
So I went on that sober rafting trip and met this chick with a fat ass and we slept in each other’s tent but then the next morning by the campfire, I saw this other chick, a redhead, also with a fat ass, wearing sexy leggings. Who’s that? I thought. Did I pick the wrong fat ass? Now that’s a question worth exploring…
Just kidding. Anyway, we exchanged a few words then I realized I’d be a piece of shit if I kept talkin to her after spending the night with Ella. Anyway, the camping trip ended and Ella and I stopped seeing each other and I started askin around for Darby. Darby was her name, right? I couldn’t remember.
Nobody knew who she was.
What should I do?
Second Chances in Life Come About in Weird Ways…
So I go to Spain and meet some chick from Uruguay and then I go to Uruguay to see her in Montevideo and we spend a few weeks together. Then after that I went to Buenos Aires and then to Puerto Madryn and down to Patagonia and up through Santiago and all over Peru and decided to hike Machu Picchu. And by hike I mean take a bus to the base of it. It was there, at the base of Machu Picchu in some shitty hostel, that my phone buzzed.
“Her name is Daryl, not Darby, and here is her Facebook…”
That message came in from my friend Giselle. So I friended Daryl on Facebook and forgot about it. And it’s weird that I forgot about it cause I’m usually a psycho about that shit, but I guess it was cause I was so busy with other travelers that I didn’t wanna be the guy on his phone all the time in a foreign country. I can do that shit at home.
Maybe I was also so intent on not fuckin this one up with too many facebook message cause I had been lookin for her for so long that I really didn’t wanna be that weirdo dude from the camping trip that messages back right away.
I guess I trained myself after all these years to not appear too available cause who wants that? That’s basically like saying:
“Hi, I’m in my thirties and have nothing to do.”
Also communication should be respectful, right? Just cause I wanna talk right now doesn’t mean you wanna talk right now, and just cause you wanna to talk right now doesn’t mean I should clear a path to do so.
But at some point, there needs to be time set aside to seriously chat, but then that’s it. Put that shit away for a bit and come back to it later. Getting to know someone is a slow process and if I try to speed it up I may destroy everything.
It’s not like I’m reading some pick-up artist book on how to psychologically fuck girls in the head to make them so insecure they fall prey to my manipulation, it’s simply because I was nervous I would come off like a loser. So, it’s more about me than her. My insecurities with myself.
Anyway, she wrote me back a few weeks later and said:
“Didn’t we meet on that rafting trip?”
She was clearly saying: Wtf dude? You friended me then didn’t say shit. Get your shit together.
So I say yeah we did. Do you wanna be my Valentine? Cause it was sometime around January.
She said: Well I think my Valentine would have to be in this country… Cause my instagram was pics of me in South America so it was then I knew she was stalkin my shit.
Anyway, I said nah, I’ll come back for you.
So I did.
Another Chance at a Relationship
I flew back from Medellin, Colombia to NY and met her in Brooklyn for Valentine’s Day and we had a nice dinner but I decided she wasn’t for me. She was too non-slutty and I really was lookin for hot and wild blow jobs that would (in my head) somehow blossom into a healthy relationship. So I walked her home in the rain (seriously I did) and gave her a kiss on the lips–actually, I think I asked if I could kiss her on the lips, and then we parted ways.
She kept texting me and I kept comin up with excuses why I couldn’t make it to Brooklyn until she said:
Okay, I’ll come to you.
Fuck. Okay… So, she came to my parent’s apartment cause that’s where I was but they were out in Long Island so it was only me there, and she came over and we made out and it was okay but I wasn’t really feeling it. I mean, she even had a nipple ring and STILL I wasn’t really into it.
I had just had so many insane encounters with latin chicks in South America that I thought to myself: maybe I’m not ready for a relationship, or maybe this just isn’t for me.
I mean, I already gave her a second chance to win me over in this hopeful relationship and it wasn’t panning out, so maybe that means this simply isn’t right.
Now that I think about it, I think I was just nervous that I may actually be starting a relationship with someone that might actually be good for me, and that scared me. That means she might find out who I actually am and discover all my insufficiencies and inadequacies and character defects and she’ll see me for who I actually am.
Am I good enough for love?
Wow, what a rabbit hole that led me down. Maybe I wasn’t even giving her the second chance, maybe I was giving myself a second chance in this relationship… I started to think about that and thought: wait.
This is everything I’ve ever wanted. A sexy chick that’s sober with a nipple ring and fat ass and dyed hair, what the fuck is the problem? The problem is me. I need to get rid of these expectations that some porn star is going to be the most loyal and loving partner in the world, cause that may not be the case. And what really won me over about Daryl was, what she did that really proved to me she was someone I wanted to do this with, is she was so loving and loyal and comforting. I had never felt comforted by a woman before. Usually they’re out bangin the bartender ten seconds after we meet. So this was new for me: a girl that may actually be a good fit.
I wasn’t used to “healthy.”
Giving Someone a Second Chance
So I continued dating her and slowly all these things started to really attract me to her until one day I realized: fuck. I love this girl and nobody would be a better fit for me.
That’s how we fell in love: by really exploring what a relationship may actually look like. Not just sex, but who our families were, what our values were, our morals, our sobriety, all these things.
For all these reasons I think second chances in relationships are SO damn important. Not to mention life gave me a second chance, so who am I to deny that to anyone else? I’m the definition of a second chance in life, I mean, I almost died a million times from drugs and wild situations in shitbox neighborhoods. If it weren’t for SO MANY people giving me a second chance to change my life, I’d be in a gutter somewhere.
And as far as giving someone else a second chance, it was the best thing I ever did. Daryl got like FIVE chances. And now we’re in love. Plus, she’s sober AND has a fat ass, so I really lucked out now, didn’t I?
Moral of the story: There is none.
Nah, I’m just kidding. Moral of the story is if I’m even considering giving someone a second chance in a relationship, it’s probably cause there’s something there that I really want to work but it may not be working yet. Giving a relationship a second chance may actually be me giving doubts I have a second chance to disappear, and usually I think, it’s probably me giving myself a second chance to change my perspective.
I don’t know, that’s just how I feel.