DateMeBecauseYouKnowYouShould

For as long as I can remember, there’s been one thing I’ve been trying to accomplish.
And that…is to date…you.
It doesn’t seem that complicated. But trust me it is.
Just for the simple fact that I’m me.

Then there’s part of me which thinks that you’re just afraid of the commitment that dating is usually related to. Because dating, leads to making out, which leads to sex.
And we all know the big problem that sex leads to…Chlamydia.
But I assure you that I don’t have Chlamydia.
How could I? I’ve never even had a girlfriend. And even if I did, Chlamydia isn’t even that bad compared to what it was before. Or other STDs.
But then it doesn’t matter because I don’t have any, nor do I even want to have sex with you. Why?

Because I like talking to you. And I really don’t think people have conversations during sex. Or would even talk anymore after he gives her Chlamydia.
But again…I don’t have Chlamydia. I like saying Chlamydia.

I also like saying your name. And when you say mine.
Or when you say anything for that matter.
Because any sentence you’ve ever said…is my favorite sentence. Ever.
But sometimes, it feels like all I’m doing is annoying you.
Even though you’ve told me over and over again that I don’t.

So here I am thinking that you would finally fall for me if I did something. Something different. Like writing you short poems on post-it notes and sticking them everywhere around you in an elaborate, yet painfully cliché manner, so that you find one every day so you remember that I never forget about you.
But that wouldn’t really do anything. Because all I can see from here is you analyzing me. Watching every move I make, checking for sincerity and intentions…like I was some sort of dating draft pick.
And you with your clipboard and a team of scientists in lab coats going ”Is he worth it?” with your advisors whispering in your ear.

But let me tell you something.
You. Should totally date…me.
If not just because I put so much effort into writing this, or even reading it right now (which is already a good enough reason if you think about it) but because I think that every guy out there that is not me, is a big doodoo head.
And you not liking me just makes me think I’m unloveable. Which might be true, but how would I know if you haven’t given me a chance to prove you wrong. Which I’m sure I would be able to. Because I’m not a big doodoo head nor do I have Chlamydia. So basically, I’m perfect for you.

And here’s something to think about. Oxytocin, also known as the love hormone, is released after sexual excitement is not only important for pair bonding, increasing trust and reducing fear, increasing empathy, and acting as a natural depressant, it also helps heal and lets you live longer.
So basically, oxytocin turns you into a superhero. Falling in love is like turning into Deadpool. So if you get hurt, maybe you get cut and start bleeding, you should go fall in love with someone, go back to what you were doing before then BOOM! Still bleeding. But you feel amazing after.

What I’m trying to say is…that I don’t want to have sex with you, I don’t want to have Chlamydia, I don’t want to perpetually think I’m annoying you and just look for reassurances, I don’t want you and your friends to just size me up thinking I’m not good enough for you because I think I could be. I just want to date you…and turn into a superhero. And maybe fall in love with you.
So if I ever confess anything to you…please. Just give me a chance.