Nick Miller is a fountain of wisdom.
Don’t believe me? A sampling of his insight:
Sure, I could get a girl drunk and topless with only some crushed ice, a hollowed out papaya, and two fingers of rum. But then I grew up, and now I only want to make a drink that a coal miner would want. Straightforward, honest. Something that says, “I work in a hole.”
I want to kill you…because I respect you. I think I understand hunting!
20-year-old girls—they think I’m awesome! And look at ’em! They don’t know what Saved by the Bell is and they’ve never felt pain.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? No, a summer’s day is not a bitch.
You get the picture. Or, if you don’t, spend a half hour watching this week’s New Girl, where Nick spouted his most poignant wisdom yet:
You want to know why I don’t like haunted houses? Because they’re just like relationships. You walk in all confident, and then once you get in, it’s not what you thought it was gonna be, and it’s scary!
Oh, Nick. You hit it right on the head there.
Here’s the thing: I actually like haunted houses. I mean, I don’t seek them out and go to one every year, but I do enjoy them. And I love scary movies, and scary books, and scary television shows. I like being scared. I love roller coasters. I want to go bungee jumping someday. I like heights and I love speed. But you know what I am terrified of? Relationships. (And spiders.)
I didn’t think I was. I thought I could jump back into the game whenever I felt like it, that the walls of independence and bitterness and cynicism I’ve built up over the past years could fall down at any time. That I just needed to meet the right guy.
Right now, I’m not so confident.
I’m starting to think that the mere idea of a relationship makes me want to hide under my covers from the world. That the prospect of putting myself out there and letting someone else inside my crazy mind is a little bit terrifying. That I am so scared of getting hurt again that there’s a part of me that would rather be single for the rest of my life.
I over-think and over-analyze in the best of situations. And when I think about it rationally, I know deep down that there is no way I could have seen what happened coming, that in my wildest imagination, I never would have expected my ex to be the type to cheat on me. But I can’t help wondering if I could have done something differently – that had I waited a few more years to get engaged, or had tougher conversations with him, or been more confident and upfront in my convictions, or not gone back to school, then we’d still be together. I go over every step of our relationship in my head, over and over again, wondering where I went wrong. And even though I know it wasn’t my fault – that if someone is going to cheat, they’re going to cheat – I can’t help feeling like maybe I could have prevented it somehow.
It’s crazy talk. I know that. But this is what goes on in my extremely active mind, and this is the lens through which I’m going to see any relationship I might enter into in the future. I consider myself to be very strong. I actually don’t understand a lot of fears. When someone tells me they admire me moving to New York City without knowing many people, I laugh it off. What’s there to be afraid of? If you want to move, then you move. Boom. So realizing that I’m actually really afraid of something is disconcerting. I don’t do afraid. (Unless there’s a spider involved.)
I’m trying so hard to push these fears down, to ignore them and not do the freaking out thing that I know is dangerously close to happening. I’m trying not to over-analyze and over-think, to not look six months into the future and instead concentrate on this week and this week only. I’m trying to remind myself that I’m awesome, rather than wondering why anyone would be into me. But dammit, it’s hard. And it’s scary.
How do I get past that?