TL

So, that movie "Good Luck Chuck," I've never seen it all the way through, but from what I've gathered before losing interest, I can pretty much relate.
I like a dude, maybe date him (or in most cases, I just chill with him... he doesn't dig me, but I totally dig him, so in order to still be in his presence, I'll be his friend and listen to all his stories as I feel my heart break little by little--melodramatic, much?), all the while, no other chick digs him... but as soon as I really start liking the guy, he gets all popular, and I get ditched.
If I sort-of dated him, his next chick becomes his wife.
Rad.

I've been thinking of this all day because:

1) I'm SO sick of seeing more than half the chicks on my FB list say something about CRonaldo being their "baby daddy."
Most of the time, these girls are well under the age of 19... so their vocab is often quite limited.
It drove me crazy today, since he played, and that was all anyone was talking about.
No, I'm not saying it's thanks to me liking him back in '04 that his fame skyrocketed exponentially- I'm saying I had the eye back in '04 to see him and think "Holy cow... this guy is going to be gorgeous in the next couple of years."
Sure enough, girls wet their panties when they see him, even if it's just him diving on the field- they love it (hey, I'm guilty of it too. I love it as much as the next girl... although there's a lot of eye-rolling and cussing going on when I see it).

2) The dude who introduced me to my love, creative writing, got married over the weekend.
We didn't date... it was this weird little tango bullshit we pulled when I was a college freshman. He was my English teacher my first semester... and things just got weird from there for the next year.
He was hilarious, sarcastic, witty, smart, only five years older than I, and he had the most killer blue eyes ever... ever! He liked me because he said I had a weird writing style he had never seen before (which, to this day, I don't understand what makes my style so weird), but he liked very much-- I made him laugh when he had to grade the numerous English 101 papers while still hungover on Sunday afternoons. I made him smile, and he appreciated it.
Anyway, I like him, he liked me, we hung out often since we both spent freakishly long hours in school (and he was new in town, I was one of the first to extend a hand in friendship), and we got into talking about his MFA in creative writing (among other things... like retarded seals and Ralph Wiggum)... and that was how I learned CW was out there.
The summer before my sophomore year, everything collapsed in the relationship, he found himself a chick he made his real girlfriend, and the damage was done. I was already enrolled for the fall semester in CW, I was going to leave to Mexico for the summer, and I thought fuck it, I'm already on board with this shit, I'll just try not to bump into him in the hallways... and I'll try not to think of him as I write my stories (huge failure. Something about him always made an appearance in my stories, always).
I showed up to class that first day of fall '04 semester, and I was smitten. Write what's on my mind, and get credit for it? And you say you like it? Oh. My. God. Thank you!

All thanks to this guy, who is now married to that chick he started dating after me (see, full-circle with my story. High-five!), introducing me to the art.
I helped him find his "true love," and he helped me find mine (writing. We all know I will forever be fucked up in the romance department. Boys don't like me).