Pathetic chick musings
I'm so frustrated, both at myself and with you. You were supposed to just be a distraction, something to help numb the pain of my last attempt at love. Then I started to develop feelings for you, they scared me and I freaked out, but you promised me that I was safe. You promised that you were genuine and that you wouldn't just give me some cold and callous dump off in a couple of weeks, and yet here we are. It's so low what you are doing right now, the way you're acting. You kept saying to me, "careful, you might start to like me..." So you got what you wanted, I did start to like you, and care about you, and trust you, and want to spend my time with you...so then what, now that's not ok anymore?
I keep sending distressed pathetic texts, and fuck now I've called and left possibly the dumbest voicemail of all time. I swear these ideas sound good in my head, and I even attempt to think it through before I send, cause I know I'd be a much cooler person had I walked away 2 days ago, but then I go back and reread them in that awful voice you use to make fun of me and I know I sound like such a crazy person to you...and yet I can't stop. The silence drives me even crazier...it allows me to pretend that maybe you'll come around...if I can just find the right thing to say, maybe you'll tell me what I want to hear...
Why do I even care? I'm attractive, young, funny, interesting...I won't have any trouble finding someone else, a part of me knows this, and yet I don't want to let go and move on. It's only been a few weeks, in a lifetime that's really nothing I suppose, an insignificant number of days when you think about all we've done in the past year alone. I don't know you. I think I do to some extent, but lets be honest, everything you've ever told me could be a complete lie and vice versa. And for that matter, there's plenty about you that I flat out don't like, and try as I might to fixate on those things in an attempt to convince myself to maintain a shred of my dignity, it just makes me want you more.
Even as I put these thoughts on paper I see a logical answer, and yet I still feel sad. For hours at a time I feel ok and over the situation and then something pulls my thoughts back to you and the longing and loneliness washes over me and I feel helpless to the evil lure of the phone again. Thankfully you don't have a Facebook account, so really the only person torturing me with thoughts about you is my own self. I replay all the sweet moments of things you said and did and it makes me feel happy, cause I do feel blessed that despite the way things have turned out, you treated me well and made me feel special, and like I deserved to be treated that way, and that means something to me. Inspite of the pain I have felt over your rejection the past couple days, I know in a few more I'll eventually be over it and appreciative for the experiences.
The truth is, most of this is not really about you. You are merely a distraction from the things in my life I have not wanted to face or focus on. I'm lonely. For some reason I keep trying to fill that lonely void the quickest way I know how, by jumping into a relationship or trying to find approval or self worth through a guy, when in fact, I definitely have a lot of work to do on myself. Perhaps the universe is forcing me to be single and figure my life out, and though I have desperately tried to hold onto these relationships, I can't deny there has to be a reason why these things continue to fall apart before they ever really take off.
I'll be the first to admit, I am clueless about the dating scene, I've never had a serious boyfriend really, and I'm pretty sure I've never really been in love ( with someone who felt the same way about me ha ha). I guess my insecurities arise from the fear that there is something inherently wrong or unlovable about me, and everytime another burgeoning relationship fizzles out, those fears creep back into my mind.
I don't even know what I want, despite what you've seen of me I'm actually quite an independent person. So maybe this is the way it goes, I take these experiences, I use them for material for my writing, and I let go. Maybe I'm meant to just be single for a while...
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