I think I May Be Defective

A lot of my friends talk about how they love being single and being able to hook up with whoever whenever and all the other joys of the lonesome life. However, these same friends who continually claim how they simply adore this life style all fall apart when a guy comes into the picture. I kid you not, as soon as a guy shows interest in them they change. They get so excited and happy and hopeful... and then they date the guy, eventually breake up and curse themselves for getting in the situation in the first place. Here's the punch line, the very next time a guy appears interested they completely forget about how much they 'love being single'. I don't understand. I really don't. It's like they are embarrassed that they are not in a relationship so they make this false pretence for themselves. But guess what, NO ONE CARES THAT YOU ARE SINGLE. Really, I'm not trying to be offensive, but you're relationship status affects NO ONE besides you. People aren't going to judge you or pity you because you're not currently seeing someone.... However they are going to call you a hypocrite when you brag about how great it is to be single and then shack up with the next guy that seems interested.

This is where my defective bit comes in. I actually enjoy being single. The thought of relationships and dating and being with someone else all the time stresses me out. And I mean to the point where I sometimes get crazy panic attacks. I enjoy being able to go out, flirt with whoever and potentially more whenever I want. I don't feel like I'm missing something or that I will 'change' when the right guy comes along (like all my friends insist I will).

I guess I'm just a no strings attached kind of person.

ps, I really love my cat.

Dear you;

It makes me mad that you don’t appreciate it. I don’t understand how you don’t understand it. This thing that is such an important part of my life and you don’t see any value in it. How is that possible? I know it’s wrong but I don’t see you the same way anymore. A cloud is covering part of your light. The words change my world. And you brush them off. The pictures make me believe and you see them as immature. It’s special. They are special. They are my everything and they are your nothing. It is painful for me to know that you see it as useless. Not that your opinion is that special, I just thought we had a certain type of bond over these things. I was wrong. You see the value in the things you like. And that is it. You shut yourself off from anything you don’t agree with or don’t understand. You don’t take the time to try and see things. And that is exactly what this is, a new way to see the world. So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t care. But don’t judge me for finding beauty and truth and peace and happiness in such simple words.
Sincerely Me.

...

I’ve made my problems visible to the world. I put it right out there on my chest, for everyone to see. It doesn’t even look like a mistake. I could cover it, sweaters, scarves, high shirts. But truthfully I couldn’t be bothered. I tear myself apart to feel alive. I remember when I was younger and my heart use to skip a beat when your hands were all over me. This feels the same. But different. It hurts and leaves marks but it’s proof that I’m alive. People would see us, and now they see me. I wonder what they think about my own personal stiches. But I really don’t care in the end, what they think about them that is… It’s more liberating than other body parts I suppose, less cliché possibly. But the whole idea is so cliché that the location ceases to matter. Right? I don’t know. I get, messed up sometimes. Confused. As to where I am, and where I’m going. What’s important, who matters. More importantly, who doesn’t matter. And why they don’t matter. I get stuck. And I just think, if I could get out of this town. If I could go somewhere, do something, be someone then I wouldn’t be stuck anymore. I can feel my blood sticking in my veins; it’s not flowing like it should. I’m breaking down. Piece by piece. And I don’t know how to change it.

obviously, what else would I write about?

Everyone talks about their last love and how they will never love anyone as much again. And it’s true. You won’t. It’s not possible to love someone as much as you loved someone else. You love everyone differently, in a unique way. We need to stop comparing the people we like and love to one another. Older and ‘wiser’ people will often rag on teenagers who confess their undying love to every person they date. But the older crowd has got it wrong. Why not love everyone? That sounds cheesy, I know. But what I mean is why limit your feelings? Why not love your girlfriend or boyfriend? Does it matter if it’s only been a month, a couple of weeks? I don’t know. Maybe it does. I’m so indecisive. Maybe we need a way to express ourselves that means more than ‘I like you’ but not as significant as ‘I love you’… It’s a hard line to cross. Because if you say to someone I love you and then you break up how do you explain the ‘love’ deal? I think it’s safe to say I am completely lost when it comes to expressing my feelings. I don’t know how to do it. When I’m ‘with’ someone I want to shout from rooftops about my affections, but when it comes to actually telling the person? I can’t do it. Maybe it’s a fear of rejection, but even when someone is telling me they love me I have a hard time saying it. It sounds weird coming out of my mouth. Maybe I just need to learn how to love people?
Maybe that’s my problem; I don’t know how to love? Which is true, I don’t. I go from feeling rather indifferent to kind of obsessed. People meet this kind of distant detached girl and they think she’s kind of cool. But then she morphs into a neurotic freak with some sort of OCD about why you’re not calling me. I have issues. I will have to work on that.

So much for my new years resolution to stop procrastinating...

Okay so I had an essay due December 7th. My prof changed the date until after the winter holidays, the essay was then due January 4th. He then changed it again so we could ask him any questions we had after the break. It is now due January 11th. That is today. We have had over an extra month to do this essay and am I finished it? no. I am not even close. After one too many drinks with a friend this afternoon I was in no shape to write the better half of my essay. I fell asleep and therefore had to wake up at 3:30am to try and finish. And here I am, not writing my essay, just telling you that I should be... Anything to procrastinate a little bit longer I guess. Wish me luck!