I'm sunburnt, so that makes me cranky, which is exactly the catalyst I need to write about my idiot roommate.
For the first few months we've been living together, I've been really trying to help him score. And by "score", I mean just talk to a member of the opposite sex. And by "talk to a member of the opposite sex", I mean, be able to approach a woman without one of the following happening:
-Him freezing up.
-Him coming across crazy/creepy.
-Him sexually assaulting someone.
I've been successful and not successful at the same time. Successfully he hasn't sexually assaulted anyone, but he hasn't even so much been able to approach anyone either. Numerous times he's made mention in the living room he's going to go down to the local dance club only to drive there, sit in his truck looking at the people going inside, and then turning around and coming home. When he comes home he says "you should've seen the girls going in!" which will prompt me to say "did you TALK to any of them?" and he'll say "No."
Today, as I was attempting to rearrange my room, he walks in with a cup of Cherry Garcia and starts in on this gem:
"So I went to Barnes and Nobles today and I started to flip through some of the like ... 'Relationships for Dummies' books and stuff. I think I figured out what my problem is," and I stop making my bed and turn and look at him.
"And what did you figure out?" Fooling myself into thinking that he's about to reveal something utterly Earth shattering about his psyche or inner mental workings.
"I just lack confidence..."
Now, I've only been telling him this for MONTHS. Ever since I met this kid, he's the least confident person I've encountered. I've told him repeatedly that he just needs more confidence, that all his problems root out at the fact he isn't comfortable in his own skin. I've done everything I can to help boost his confidence, from giving him frequent compliments about his strengths (he's genuinely funny -albeit a little crazy- good looking, tall, and when he calms down a little bit, he has a very engaging personality) and pushing him to expand the limits of his comfort zone by putting him into ever increasingly uncomfortable situations (such as bringing girls over to him or dragging him to different places/people/events and making him look like an ass, all in an effort for him to get over himself.).
His problem has always been this lack of confidence, which is upheld by some sort of standard that he's supposed to be this cool character. If I could break him of this line of thinking, he'd instantly become more comfortable with himself.
If I can let me ego talk for a second, I think he wants to be me, or at least model himself an avatar that's like me. He always sees me being a cool customer, etc. But the fact of the matter is, I'm not cool, I'm not comfortable in my own skin, I'm highly self conscience with a lot of insecurities. The difference between he and I is I've learned how to hide those negatives or turn them into positives. He wears his insecurities like a Cosby Sweater.
It took me YEARS to develop some sort of confidence. So I don't expect him to have a metamorphosis overnight, but I at least expect him to try.
And seriously, what's sadder than a guy going to the movies and dinner by himself all the time in order to "meet people." HELLO ASSHOLE! YOU CAN'T MEET PEOPLE WHEN YOU WON'T EVEN TALK TO THEM!
I liken him to a novice ice skater, who is out on the ice for the first time. They want to do everything they can to stay upright, for fear of falling. All they need to do is fall on their ass one time to see that falling on your ass doesn't hurt, it's just a little embarrassing. And even then, 9 times out of ten, someone will be there to help pick you up, because we've all experienced falling on our asses, and we all know what it's like. He is not special. None of us are.
What my toe-headed roommate needs to do is fall on his ass, hard. Then he can skate all day.
So when he told me that he read a book and self diagnosed himself as a self-conscience social misfit I nearly lost my shit. I spiked my pillow cases and turned on him.
"Hello! I've only been telling you that for months! What the fuck dude! Is this thing on! Is this thing on!" And I mimic a microphone, blowing into it and tapping it on the head. He just stares. "Did you buy the book?"
"Well thank god for that," I say and pick my pillow cases back up, sighing. "Why are you so afraid of getting hurt?"
"Because I don't want to get hurt?" He says back. I can understand his fears, but they're baseless. He's never been hurt in his life. He's forever a flincher, the kind of guy who will always flinch back when he's scared or tense or nervous. He needs to unclench his fucking ass, and start hearing what I have to say to him.