Every female wants male affection, and ironically, we all end up dating our fathers. We find men who fit that bill because our fathers are the only male example we have in this world. They exemplify authority, what every man should be in this world. In my case, when the latter occurred in my love life, it made me realize the downfalls in my suitor, my father and myself.

I spent two whole days with one guy, one guy who shall remain nameless. He first contacted me on Facebook, and the attraction he had toward me was nothing short of apparent. I was with another guy at the time as well, and things became mighty complicated once this guy waltzed into my life. He told me things every girl wants to hear, and I, despite my better judgment, became smitten. While my other male relationship crumbled, through no fault of the other guy, I agreed to spend some time with this Facebook guy.

I had to basically walk in circles, from the local pizzeria to the local family park and food pantry, and back and forth and so on, looking for my escort’s next score.

In my small town, I am seen as a good girl, one who never gets tangled in the bad boy’s web, one who gets good grades and does good things with her time and one who is home at a reasonable hour. But that is what happened. I basically looked at the whole experience as a field test, one to define a type of male that I had tried to define for most of my conscious life. Thus, I titled my experience Harold and Kumar go to Sayville Pizza.

It was the first time I was surrounded by people I never knew, but people I had surely heard about. They all were destined for where they were; the corner of my block was the farthest they’d ever be from home. I began to get to know my suitor, one of notoriety, and I began to understand why he did the things he did. He had been inclined to turn to drugs since birth, bullied mercilessly since middle school, and once he hit thirteen he decided to begin smoking cigarettes and marijuana, for he felt it was all he was worth. These things were the keys to his friends, his ex girlfriends, and his fixes. This guy is positively unsightly, with chipped teeth and unruly hair and an extremely off-putting natural musk, but despite it all, I remained attracted.

Every single person in my life was perplexed by this. They questioned my judgment, my trustworthiness, my sanity. My sanity was the only thing that needed questioning.

You see, my father was a drug addict from the time he was eleven on. He has had two major relapses in my lifetime, and subconsciously, I thought that this new guy, who fit the characteristics of an addict to a T, could be fixed. That, in my twisted psyche, would prove that my dad should be able to love me if a fellow addict could.

Quite a stretch, to say the least.

I had to let my flame go. It was ultimately the right thing to do, because despite my attraction, it was all for the wrong reasons, and it was unfair to hold him to such great heights that even I could never reach. It led me to not only question my romantic interests, but also if I had ever actually let my father’s mis-steps go.

I see the same thing occur with other girls all the time; it’s a common problem for my generation. Girls think we need guys to validate our worth, to tell us we are beautiful, smart, kind, valuable. I couldn’t believe I had actually done that as well, and despite it all, I was never going to let myself do it again. I wish I could make every woman realize that sometimes the only male example in her life is not the male she should draw standards from. I learned it the hard way, and I would never wish that upon any other female, for I got lucky in that I did not let myself get in too deep. Some females unfortunately do.