Anxiety is For Nerds.....and Other Unavoidable Truths

Chapter One - Grant

It was around the fifth or sixth time that Dylan's girlfriend was caught cheating on him that he finally decided to move out of her apartment.

"Dude," he sobbed to me, tears streaming down his cheeks, "be honest with me. Do you think she ever loved me?"

Well....damn. There it was. The most uncomfortable question known to humankind. There was no way to answer the question without sounding like an asshole, because if I was honest, I never liked Dylan's girlfriend. It wasn't that she was un-attractive or anything, she was just......well.....kind of a bitch. So what the hell was I supposed to say?

The way I see it, there are two possible answers to this question. The first choice would be that I could give Dylan a nonsense answer, one that massages his ego and gently protects his feelings, and he skips on with his life, blissfully ignorant of the brutal reality of this whole situation. Or option two, I give Dylan the real, heartbreaking answer. The answer that kicks him in the balls, but he comes out a stronger, wiser man. I hope.

"Of course she loved you." is the first choice. "My guy, of course she loved you. Everyone could see that she loved you, even all of your closest friends who warned you that she was a terrible girlfriend who was a nightmare. She loved you with her whole heart. But sometimes even the strongest, purest love can change over time. She probably just fell out of love with you, and decided that she could find someone she loved more somewhere else. But she loved you really strongly at the beginning, however. Oh yeah. One hundred percent."

"Of course she never loved you, jackass." was option two. "She was a cheating slut who seemingly spread her legs to anybody who wandered by; why on earth would she ever love you? All of your friends warned you that she was a terrible person, so how can you be surprised that this is what ended up happening? Don't fall in love with vapid whores who don't love you back, stupid!"

Eventually, I settled on some answer vaguely between the two choices. I think I mumbled something like "I don't know if she loved you, my guy. Who can tell with these things?" and stumbled out of the kitchen that Dylan was blubbering in. A classic male exit strategy.

"Chicks cheat on their boyfriends every day of the week. Monday through Sunday." my friend Tim observed, when I called him to let him know the situation. "Why is he acting like he's so goddamned special?"

Safe to say, exactly zero of the males in Dylan's life knew what to say to comfort my heartbroken friend. Which led me to the conclusion that perhaps I was seeking answers from the wrong gender on this one. Maybe it was women who would solve this problem.

"We're going out tonight." I announce to the form of Dylan, who was curled up in a fetal position in the corner of his bed. He had been like that for the past couple of days, bursting into tears and sniffling. "It's a Friday. We're going to talk to cool new people." 

"Dude, absolutely not. No way." Dylan sniffles, wiping a tissue under his nose. "By the way, I think someone named Gilbert has been calling your phone all day. Isn't that your supervisor at work?" He points to my phone, which I had left forgotten on the side table in his room all day.

"I'll call him back. Don't change the subject. You and me are going out."

"Dude, I don't think I can stand being around women right now. I'm too fragile and weepy. I'm too emotional for something like this."

"Dylan, look. This isn't a big deal. We just need to get you out of this funk you're in." I pat him gently on the head. "What you need is to talk to a few girls, connect with a cute one, and then that cheating whore will never cross your precious and delicate little mind ever again."

"First of all, what the hell? Why do you talk like that? Just talk normally, for Christ sake. Secondly, don't pat my head like a condescending parent. Thirdly, don't call Clarissa a whore." Dylan turns to toss a pillow at me. "I can't talk to women in this state of mind. I've been crying for six or seven straight days. I've been heartbroken, and I'm a mess. I'm not going out and that's final."