Signs you are dating the wrong girl
I put the key into the door, slowly unlocking it to give everyone time enough to leave the building.
I got in, fixed my rear-view mirror and rolled the windows down.
You overthink every single thing you’re going to say before you say it, instead of feeling comfortable enough to blurt out whatever you want in front of them. The two of you always feel defensive around one another, as if you’re both always ready to jump down each other’s throats over something. You don’t really care if your friends or family like them. Maybe subconsciously, you don’t care if your friends and family like them because you’re telling yourself this won’t last forever anyway. You’re exhausted after hanging out with them, instead of relaxed and happy. You feel tense when you go out to dinner, like you have to be constantly thinking on your feet so that you don’t run out of things to talk about. When thinking about your future, you have to remember to try and include them in it instead of automatically including them without even thinking about it. You feel relieved when they have to cancel plans and you get to hang out by yourself or with your friends instead. You have no desire to grow or improve yourself when you’re around them.
Instead, you feel like you could just stay in your current situation forever and neither one of you would care or notice. Hanging out feels more like an obligation than something to look forward to. Being with them causes you to grow increasingly insecure, instead of the other way around. You’re surprised if you ever notice that you’re actually laughing around them. You feel like you behave differently in front of your friends when they’re around, and not in a good way. When it comes to buying birthday or Christmas presents, you pick something up from the store at the last minute just to have something to give them, instead of putting a lot of thought into it and trying to come up with a gift that you know they would absolutely love. When the two of you fight, it becomes less about getting to the root of the problem and more about who “wins” the fight. One of you is always making all of the decisions, instead of it being an even 50/50 setup. Spending time together usually means you’re both doing something else at the same time, like constantly playing on your phone, working on your laptop, watching tv, or anything else that takes your attention off of each other. It feels like neither one of you is actually listening to the other when you are having conversations. The giddy smile that used to come across your face when you started absentmindedly thinking about them rarely makes an appearance now. You have a hard time completely trusting them, whether that means trusting them about being faithful or trusting that what they’re saying is true when the two of you are having conversations. Planning any kind of special date night is a source of stress instead of an enjoyable experience. You rarely feel any kind of desire to gush about them to other people, tell funny stories about them, or generally just mention them on occasion. The two of you have a really hard time not nagging or criticizing one another, even if it’s supposedly lighthearted. You often find yourself thinking “if we’re still together” when planning things in the future. They feel more like a strain on your life as opposed to something that brings light and happiness into your life.
I thought of how proud my dad would be, accomplishing this on my own. I drove her to the nearest gas station, put the extra I had removed from the can, filled up the tank and proceeded to drive to school.
I thought of the respect I’d get from the guys at school and most importantly? I removed the for-sale sign, jumped in, and started her up for the first time. When I had arrived at school, I made sure to park close as I could to the main entrance.
I raced the 6 country blocks all the way back to my house, up to my room maybe touching 2 stairs along the way.
I pulled out the rusty metal coffee can I had suspended between one of the box springs beneath my mattress.
I counted out 0, 2 Ben Franklin’s, 10 Andrew Jackson’s, 5 Alexander Hamilton’s and 50 George Washington’s.
I walked around the car three times, kicking the tires, careful not to get the new coat of armor all on my shoes.
I pressed my eyes against the glass, just enough to see the impeccable white interior and the 8-track player.
The old woman signed the title, handed me a bill of sale, the keys, and a smile.
I couldn’t believe it, I had purchased my first car and it was a classic.
I knocked on the door, and an old woman with a pine wooden cane came to the door.