I went through a phase in college in which I was not a very nice person to be in a relationship with. I believe the proper term for people who behaved like me is "sociopath." But that's just semantics.
Anyways, I acted very cavalierly with someone else's heart, and I ended up regretting it. HARD.
In my misguided attempts to atone, I decided I had to shun my previous ways and devote myself to being earnest. Look at me volunteering with kids; I am a good person! Look at this small cute animal I am holding; I am so nice! Mostly, I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't an awful person. (Still waiting on the outcome).
Good friend Jean dubbed this pursuit of mine "earnesty." She even made a motivational poster for me featuring the phrase beneath the photo of an Arcade Fire member singing his heart out: EARNESTY!
A lot of that season of earnesty involved crying, soup-eating, crying, journalling, crying and watching "The Bachelor" on Monday nights at Jean's apartment. I needed to believe in love-- even ridiculous, contrived love-- and the show's heavy handed rose-scented perfume seeped into my veins. Not gonna lie, I also quite enjoyed the feeling of "Oh god, no matter how bad a state I'm in right now, at least I didn't just do THAT on national television." I still can't get enough of this awful/awesome show on Monday nights.
I have to cringe at the girls who are just too damn earnest.