I’ve been to or been invited to at least 5 weddings already and the year aint over. Plus, just recently i was one of the best men in my best friends wedding. Beautiful ceremony and union. Also i think i might have low-key had the time of my life. Having all of my friends in one place mixed with some new friends felt like i was in undergrad again. It almost made me forget that I have issues with weddings.
Weddings are practically rough for me so I normally only go to get drunk. I'm happy for the 2 people connecting under the sight of God. But It’s almost like I'm toasting to something that is so far off in the distance for myself that its really not feasible. Although, part of me is fascinated with the thought of finding someone who truly gets me. Someone who’ll be the reason my heartbeats. That missing rib that men search a lifetime to find.… But what are the odds of that happening?
This is just a little bit of the inner conflict I deal with daily between Royce and da6’5. The romantic and the realist. Nice guy vs. The Asshole. But allow me to shine some light on my neurosis. Walk with me down this path that i may show you how perception can be the fall of any good intention, shall we? Lets...
It starts with the uneasiness and awkward feel of dating. The main problem we have in dating is not the unknown, but it’s the fact that expectation seldomly matches reality. They're 2 parallels that never truly align. Almost like Big Luther's curl... never... really curled right. They branch off into different, yet current perceptions… expectation and reality. Expectation, though we try not to have it, is the dream of a positive outcome before the action occurs. Whereas reality is the earth shattering sound of that dream breaking like glass windows falling from a sky scraper.
You see, Expectation, again, though you try not to have it, is what is conjured up while you're getting dressed. You're thinking "Man this girl is gorgeous. I know she feeling me. Shes smart. Shes funny. This is gonna be a great date." Its the hope of holding hands at the restaurant, and the great conversation had throughout dinner… Reality is the fact that this woman is a shell of her former self because her heart is irretrievably broken because of her ex and she wouldn't know a good joke if it was on the tip of her fork. Reality is the fact that you have nothing in common with the hungry soul, void of personality that’s sitting in front of you. Expectation is the walk to the door, gentle laughs to kill the silence and the kiss, maybe more depending on if you talk yourself out of the drawers (see future post) at the end of the night… Reality is the voice in your head telling you to say “im going to the bathroom” then break for the nearest exit. Reality is pulling up to her house wishing you had never picked her up. Then, before her feet are planted firmly on the ground you drive off and delete her contact info.
The basic moral of this little informative essay if you must, is that Perception is an evil bitch and reality is her lonely, hatin’ ass friend drinking up all the Ciroc in the VIP section. Thus, because of Reality, Expectation is the biggest deception since Christopher Columbus "discovered" America…
Fin.