I Suck At Serious Relationships

I suck at texting people back. I’ll look at my phone, read the message, and then forget about it. It’s not that the conversation isn’t important to me. It’s just that I get distracted easily. I tell myself that I’ll reply in a second, but then I end up sidetracked and accidentally leave the person hanging.

I suck at flirting. Sometimes I take my teasing and sarcasm too far and come across as mean. Sometimes I don’t take it far enough and look like I couldn’t care less about the person I spend all my nights daydreaming about. I can never strike the perfect balance.

I suck at opening myself up to people. I’ve built a wall around my heart that I’m not prepared to take down. So I circle around certain subjects. I avoid talking about my family drama and former depression, because I feel like it’s off limits. I hide pieces of myself without even thinking about it. It happens naturally. But it keeps people at an arm’s length when all they want to do is inch closer to me.

I suck at couple-y things. I’ve always made fun of romcoms and romance novels. I’ve always hated sappy, gooey, grand gestures. I’m not a fan of flower petals or candlelit dinners. I’m not interested in the things most women find romantic.

I suck at releasing my emotions. When I’m upset, I hide whatever has been on my mind. I act like nothing is bothering me. Even when I’m happy, I’ve conditioned myself to keep it under wraps. I never tell people how much I like them, how much I enjoy spending time with them, because I don’t want to scare them away. I don’t want to become too transparent.

I suck at being selfless. I’m used to putting myself first, to only caring about my own needs. I’m not used to being a part of a team. I’m not used to taking someone else’s feelings into consideration before making a major decision.

I suck at talking about the future. As much as I get annoyed with almost relationships, the idea of committing to someone for the rest of my life terrifies me. I don’t know where I’m going to be in a few years. I still feel like a kid. I’m not ready for marriage yet.

I suck at staying happy. I always find a reason to be miserable. I look for things to complain about, even when my life has reached its highest point. I whine, even when I should just be enjoying the moment. I’ve had more practice crying than smiling.

I suck at being a girlfriend. I’m not used to getting the person that I want. I’m not used to being wanted back. I’m used to having my heart broken before the relationship officially begins.

I suck at serious relationships, because I’ve never really been in one. I’m not used to the way they work.