Yup Yup Yup, I Smelled Her Shoes. Don't Ask Why, I Don't Even Know Myself.

I hate being weird.  ******* hell, I hate it.

I have spent all of my life swimming in this sea of depression and severe social anxiety.  Like water, it refracts light, and so my view of the world and myself is skewed, or bent at an angle.  I say stupid things at stupid times, I jump in on conversations because the anxiety prods me to say something, because they're all looking at me, dammit!

So I was out with this girl I had sex with (it was great, thanks for asking).  I don't think I like her as a person that much (how judgmental of me, but welcome to the webs), so I doubt it will continue.  Anyway, she was having dinner with her friend, Julie.  Julie and this girl had just played squash.  I had never seen squash equipment, so Julie pulled a shoe from her bag and gave it to me.

It was strange-looking.  There was a plastic chassis around the shoe, and the sole was flat as a board, no curve like you usually see.  It looked brand new.  You know how you get into a new car, and it smells good?  Or you crack open a new tin of tennis balls, and this ambrosia leaks out?  Well, I thought the shoe would be like that.

So I smelled it.

******* hell, that was a weird thing to do.  But the anxiety gets so ******* ratcheted up I will do anything, anything, to deflect my thoughts from myself.  But naturally, this doesn't help.

So, later, this girl calls me weird.  To my face.  A few times.  And she still wanted to sleep with me, because I'm kind of dishy and rather smart and interesting (I toot my horn, I'll keep the volume down).  She had a house party last night, I showed up very late (I was feeling anxious, and so didn't want to go at all, but yes, I did want to have sex with her) and she ignored me, and she told her ex that I smelled another girl's shoe, and it was so weird, all this as I'm sitting right in front of her.

Yes, it was ******* weird, and I apologized to her about it, and told her why I did it.  And she still said that to me in front of my face, and she laughed about me in front of my face.

Which I thought was ******* rude, so I left.  And what I did was cosmically strange, yes, I admit it and am ashamed of myself, but for Christ's sake, girl, cut me some slack.

Anyway, I could get into recriminations here.  I will admit anger, which is the first sign of hurt.  Or maybe the second.  I don't know.  I have to relinquish this and move on.

So, that's my weird story.  Thanks all for hearing me out.

ps - sadly, this is by far not the first, nor will it likely be the last.  ****.

jeffzto jeffzto
36-40, M
Mar 6, 2010