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A female rock star holding a pink guitar. She has pink hair and is wearing sunglasses. She's standing a willy wonka field of pink flowers. Generated by LeonardoAI.

Crushed by Chloe: A Media Masochist's Tale

  • Images:
    • Media: A mid 20s blonde woman in a pink shirt. She's surrounded by pink flowers. Alternative. Generated by LeonardoAI.
    • Media: A mid 20s blonde woman wearing a colorful shirt. She's surrounded by countless pink flowers. Wes Anderson. Generated by LeonardoAI.
    • Media: A blonde female rock star wearing a blue jacket and colorful shirt. She's holding a guitar. Her bandmates are in the background. A giant pink flower hangs over their head. Generated by LeonardoAI.
    • Media: A female rock star holding a pink guitar. She has pink hair and is wearing sunglasses. She's standing a willy wonka field of pink flowers. Generated by LeonardoAI.
    • Media: Alternative. A young man lying on his bed, listening to music withe headphones. His bedroom dissolves into a tapestry of colors and planets hang from his daydream like a mobile.

I read something the other day that made a lot of sense to me.  I wish I could remember what it said.

I’m so sick of television, music, movies, and books that I actively go out of my way to watch even more TV and listen to more music.  I’m a media masochist.  I’m not completely sure why I enjoy torturing myself.  Like at this very moment No No No is playing through my stereo by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. My heart sinks in such a beautifully content way.

I suppose I could relate it to all the women I’ve agonized over but that doesn’t make much sense.  What do the Yeah Yeah Yeahs have to do with my first girlfriend?  How could Karen O be crushing me just like Carrie H did?  She can’t.  And why would Karen O want to crush me?  She wouldn’t.  Unless all girls want to crush me…

I’m beginning to understand that women crushing guys is a common theme.  I mean, other than Karen O, I haven’t been crushed in a long time but that’s only because I haven’t allowed myself.  The fools in the television, music, movies and books I’ve been absorbing aren’t so lucky.  They keep going back for more and lose a piece of themselves each time.  It’s a train wreck taking place on the most gorgeous spring day of the year and that’s why I can’t stop watching.

Perhaps the distance I’ve created between myself and vaginas has everything to do with Reality Bites and nothing to do with Carrie H.  It’s completely possible because no matter how many leather jackets I own I will forever be Michael Grates.  Women know this.  At least those who know me do.  What’s wrong with that though?  I rooted for Michael through the entire movie.  I actually took his side and was outspokenly upset when she chose The Douche.  It wasn’t because my life roll was similar to Stiller’s character but because he was a nice guy.  A good guy.  His heart was always in the right place while The Douche had a bad haircut and took up couch space.  It broke my heart, and that’s what made it such a good movie.

Possibly my heartache has nothing to do with all Lelaina Pierce’s of the world but the Chloe’s from Sol Goode.  In fact, I’m certain of it.  Chloe is the girl that’s always been there for you.  She’ll always be there for you.  You drink beers together, sing along to Jimi Hendrix, make fun of mutual friends and feel utterly empty when she’s not around- never realizing why.  You’re blinded by her beauty, to point of not accepting it.  Chloe is the reason why you never have any successful relationships.  Every girl you meet is compared to her, knowingly or not.

Chloe terrifies me and that’s why when Karen O explains “and cool kids, they belong together” I’m crushed.  Crushing so hard over my Chloe…

 

Monday, May 20, 2024

So that we're clear, a real-life Chloe never existed. This wasn't projection or having a particular person in mind and coyly referencing her. No, this was just a fictional relationship that I had imagined. It's what I wanted a relationship to be. It's me longing to be in love with a best friend. 

Demisexual, I'm pretty sure that's what the kids call it.