CVG (My first real, actual, non-repost blog post! In color!)

So, six-ish months ago, my church was doing a thing, and they had a band there that was made up mostly of church people (but not necessarily officially affiliated with the church.)  And I noticed this girl playing the violin in the band, and she was pretty cute. I didn't give it too much thought at the time, because I hadn't seen her at church before, so she probably was just part of the band and not the church, so the odds were low that I'd ever see her again.

But I did see her occasionally after that, with the band. Per the naming guidelines established by the TV show Scrubs, I started calling her Cute Violin Girl.  Not that I called her that out loud to anyone, because, like most of my life, it was all going on in my head.  She was continuing to be cute, but there was something about her that I liked (other than her being cute) that I couldn't quite put my finger on.  Maybe it was just that she was playing the violin--cute women who play music have their cuteness multiplied by a certain factor (the exact number depends on the instrument--guitar is the highest.)


Anyway, I assumed she was like all the new cute women I encounter, in that she was probably way too young for me (I guessed 25-ish), and she already had a boyfriend and she was married and she was planning to move to Nebraska tomorrow and she was a lesbian and she was in the federal witness protection program and if I tried to talk to her I would immediately be arrested and sent to that prison at Guantanamo.  So I promoted her to Crush Of The Month Whom I Will Never Ever In A Billion Years Actually Have A Thing With Or Even Talk To, and that was fine. Because I'm totally used to that.

Eventually, I started seeing her at church more, so apparently she joined, or something. Which didn't really change anything--it mostly gave me something for my eyes to obsessively dart toward during the sermon.  She was even at the church retreat a month ago, and I, being the Official Retreat Photographer(tm), got some good pictures of her.  As I was editing the retreat photos, my brain had the following actual thought:  "Hey, that's a good picture of her. Maybe she'll see and want to marry me." And I'm pretty sure my brain wasn't even trying to be sarcastic or ironic--it actually considered that a serious thought. Because I. Am. Crazy.

So, one day I was totally facebook stalking her minding my own business, when I happened across CVG's blog. I read it, and it turns out that OMG she's almost as messed up as me! She talked about having depression and anxiety, and it seemed like she spent a lot of time being crazy in her own head. So, of course, now I'm totally in love with her. I have a thing for broken people who know that they're broken. Because I feel like we could get together and heal each other not be broken. Not that I think I could fix her or she could fix me--people can only fix themselves.  But it's more like I think broken people have a metaphorical hole in them, and all the happiness and love and whatever leaks out through the hole faster than you can replenish it.  I want to find someone as broken as I am, because she will understand that. And then we can just hold on tight to each other and plug the holes we have, which will keep the happiness and love from escaping, and give the holes a chance to heal.  (I have a whole other post's worth of ideas related to this; I'll try to post it sometime soon.)

So, after reading through some of CVG's blog posts, I find out she's actually in her mid-30's (younger than me, but well within the [x/2 - 7] rule for minimum dating age).  Now I'm starting to get intrigued...she's no longer some cute girl to harmlessly fantasize about; she's an actual person who I might potentially fit really well with, and those people are extremely rare. (Or at least, it's extremely rare for me to get to know a girl well enough to know she's as broken and crazy as I am. Because I'm an introvert.)  And I don't remember ever really seeing her with a guy who might be her boyfriend, do I?  Maybe once, but their relationship status was vague, at best. It totally could've been a friend thing. Or just a "two people who happened to sit next to each other in church and that was the full extent of it" thing.

NOW my brain goes into full-on crazy mode. The Intel core i7 processor in there is overclocking itself and using its patented hyperthreading technology to plan the wedding, and decide whether we should have a big fancy reception with those delicious Swedish meatballs, or just elope to save money. (FINAL RECOMMENDATION:  "Elope, and eat all the meatballs yourselves.") Fortunately, there was one small part of my brain that remained rational and prevented me from actually calling up florists.

That lasted maybe 3 days. I saw her at church on a Sunday. Afterward, I texted a friend of mine who goes to the church and at least knows who CVG is something along the lines of "I missed you at church this morning, but at least Cute Violin Girl was there. :)"  It was, I believe, the first time I had used the CVG moniker anywhere outside of my brain. It almost felt like I was coming out.... as a straight person. Or something. Then my friend casually texted me back words to the effect of, "Sorry, she's got a boyfriend."  After carefully considering this new information for approximately 0.000452 nanoseconds, my brain produced the following helpful thought:


"MOTHER. FUCKER."

If I think about it logically, it made very little sense to get upset. The ENTIRE THING, which was not even an actual thing--just a potential thing--happened completely in my head. Exactly 0% of the entire non-relationship occurred within the observable universe. It's like getting upset because a favorite character in a book died.  Except that a lot of people DO get upset about characters in a book dying, so maybe it's okay.  Even if something isn't real, we can still get emotionally invested in it, and experience actual feelings about it. Right?  I'm pretty sure that I'm having a profound moment here, and not just trying to justify my neurotic-ness. It may not have been written down, but it was still a story--just that I was the only reader. I became emotionally involved in it, and was sad when it didn't turn out the way I hoped it would.

Anyway, even if it didn't turn out the way I hoped, I want to thank you, Cute Violin Girl. Reading your blog and seeing you put your own personal crazy out there inspired me to start this blog and do the same thing. Because I'm so terribly introverted, and I almost never show my true self to anyone, which means no one can ever love me for who I am. If I take my insanity and dump it out all over the internet, 99% of the people who read it will just think I'm crazy. But I never cared about those people anyway. All that matters is the 1% who might find me, the way I found you, and think "OMG! He's almost as messed up as me!" and fall in love with that.

[Note: Before I posted this, I went back and read some more of CVG's blog. Apparently, she's planning to move out of the state in a couple months. Seriously, someone just needs to shoot me now....]