Anyway.
You know, I am a blessed person. I truly am. I have an amazing family, amazing friends, I get to go to school and study art, the thing that makes me happiest. I get to choose. I get to walk outside my house without a bomb falling or a tank rolling down the street. I get to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I get to go to a steady job and receive a steady paycheck. I get to sleep in a bed with clean sheets and pillow cases that smell like shampoo and dryer sheets. I have air conditioning on hot nights and heat when the winter time rolls around. I am loved by the people in my life. And I love them in return.
I am blessed.
And thats why, in moments like these, when I'm up late and I can't shut off my mind, I feel selfish for the loneliness that settles in the pit of my stomach. I feel like an ass. That in the face of all that is good in my life, I have the audacity to wish for more. And yet here I am, feeling guilty and confused and wishing I knew who could fix it. Wondering if he is someone I have already met, or if he is someone I have yet to meet.
Guh. Yuck. I am not a co-dependent person. I don't do "oh-my-god-like-i-so-need-a-man-to-define-me-and-make-me-feel-valued-and-worthwhile." I just don't. I'm an independent girl. I'm pretty damn good at standing on my own two feet.
I know who I am. I'm not good at asking for help. I don't like onions and I don't like liars. I am happiest when I am creating or doing something productive. I love to laugh more than anything and my favorite sound in the world is good guitar. I listen to Billie Holiday especially when it rains. If no one is around, I will drink from the carton. I'll wear the same jeans two days in a row if i have to...whatever. I get nervous in public bathrooms when I realize EVERYONE can hear me pee. I'm afraid of sharks and drowning but I love boats. I like whiskey. I like tattoos. I like to listen to people's voice when they talk. I like the way hands were made to hold on to each other.
I think I have a pretty damn good handle on who I am and what makes me, me. So feeling like this makes me feel weak and stupid and lame and selfish and guilty and dumb and dumb and lamelamelame.
But if there's one more thing I know about myself, it's that I'm honest. And to be honest...I have been missing what its like to have a boy really care about me.
Recently things have gotten a little frustrating. My ex boyfriend/best friend and I have been hanging out. At first it was like perfect closure. I know I'm not interested in him romantically anymore. But I don't think its the same for him. He's said to me several times now that he still loves me.
Now let me be clear. There is no confusion here for me. There is no..."lets-get-back-together-and-emotionally-cut-each-other-to-pieces-for-no-good-reason-one-more-time." Do I love him? I always will in a way. But I'm not turning around. I'm not back pedaling.
And yet, I find myself leaning towards him again simply because I miss what its like to have someone tell you they love you and want you. I miss being wanted. And so, I've stopped trying to hang out with him. Because I won't be that girl who fucks with his head just because his affection is convenient to play with. I won't do it. I'm not in love with him anymore.
It has taken me over a year to finally come to that realization. It feels amazing. I feel free.
But when that feeling goes away, and its been a YEAR since any boy has shown you any kind of affection that makes you feel beautiful...
you stay up late at night writing ridiculous fucking blogs, sounding like a whining, idiotic, desperate girl who can't function without male attention.
I'm perfectly capable of functioning thank you very much. A man will never be my missing piece, or my other half. I am already complete in just being me, exactly how i was created.
But I can't help but impatiently hope for someone who makes being me...better.
