time of the month
I know what you're thinking. I only really pop in to bitch about some new and not improved form of dick I've subjected myself to. I grab a bottle (or box) of wine, drink myself into a heightened state of agitation and vomit my hurt feelings and anger where everyone can see them.
Sorry to burst your bubble. While I am here due to a failed attempt at something, I don't even know what, it's not really due to another party's douchery.
It makes me sad that my head is still so jacked up from the actual awful I've put myself through for... I'd say the summer, but really, life. I took what could have been just a nice time or maybe even a blossoming something and turned it into my own head fuck, without any outside help. And that is just insane.
I've been throwing up walls all around this chest cavity in an attempt to mitigate the possibility of being hurt as much as I have been in the past. And at the sign of even a hairline fracture in the heaviest of these walls, I run for the hills. Or really, I implode and burn up all possibility of anything good coming from anything that makes me feel good.
Pain is a part of life. In it, our empathy is born. It's what helps us to grow and what makes us appreciate those that make us feel good so much. And love, in all its grandeur, can not be what it is without hurt... for how would we truly understand what we have if our hearts had not been put through the ringer before?
I've been telling myself that my recent ability to drop dudes in such short order is just me being experienced in the ways of the asshole. But it's not. It's just me being a scared little girl running away from even the slightest possibility of being hurt. And that is sad. And dumb. And is not helping anything, at all.
And for what it's worth, if you happen to run across this, I'm sorry for being crazy and projecting a barrage of shit that has nothing to do with you. I'll be kicking myself over this for awhile.
Originally posted 10/31/14,
Sorry to burst your bubble. While I am here due to a failed attempt at something, I don't even know what, it's not really due to another party's douchery.
I just head fucked myself. BAD.
Soooo... a random guy friend requests me on Facebook like a month or so ago? I scan what I can see on his profile and see that he's fucking hot... and tattooed... and in great shape... and I figure, what the hell? Everyone likes having hot friends.
I accept and stalk him out a bit and it appears that he's married. Huh, well, maybe we know each other somehow? Well, no, he lives in the Springs and none of the people I know down there seem to know him. Well, whatever... he's probably into the same kind of music as I am or something and I've got a bunch of randos from that scene all over my FB. I move on and pretty much forget about yet another unknown friend that I may or may not ever end up talking to.
Until he starts hitting me up. We get to chatting and we definitely don't know each other. He tells me that he found me through the People You May Know function, thought I was cute and went for it. Someone actually using social networking to like meet people... an amazing concept!
Soooo... a random guy friend requests me on Facebook like a month or so ago? I scan what I can see on his profile and see that he's fucking hot... and tattooed... and in great shape... and I figure, what the hell? Everyone likes having hot friends.
I accept and stalk him out a bit and it appears that he's married. Huh, well, maybe we know each other somehow? Well, no, he lives in the Springs and none of the people I know down there seem to know him. Well, whatever... he's probably into the same kind of music as I am or something and I've got a bunch of randos from that scene all over my FB. I move on and pretty much forget about yet another unknown friend that I may or may not ever end up talking to.
Until he starts hitting me up. We get to chatting and we definitely don't know each other. He tells me that he found me through the People You May Know function, thought I was cute and went for it. Someone actually using social networking to like meet people... an amazing concept!
He eventually tells me he's in the middle of a divorce. Well, not exactly the best time to start talking to someone, but I stop thinking he might be a douche. And, if we're going to be honest, I've always drawn soon-to-not-be-married guys... I'm a lot of fun. I'm not out here actually looking for someone so none of it matters in the end. He's fun to talk to mostly because he asks a lot of questions, and you know how much I like to talk about myself. It's nice to be getting to know someone new without the intention of actually dating.
Problem is, I do end up developing a crush. I like the guy... he texts, he actually calls, he sends silly selfies, he continues with the questions. And it's easy... I'm not sitting around thinking I'm annoying him because he's the one hitting me up.
Problem is, I do end up developing a crush. I like the guy... he texts, he actually calls, he sends silly selfies, he continues with the questions. And it's easy... I'm not sitting around thinking I'm annoying him because he's the one hitting me up.
So we finally get together. We go out for a snack and a couple drinks, then stand around his kitchen drinking and chatting forever. He admits to how he actually found me. He saw me on Tinder awhile back. My Instagram handle is on my profile so he tracked me down there, and that's how he tracked me down on Facebook. I was actually pursued... someone decided they wanted to know more about me and actually went through the trouble to find me. Not that it's exactly hard in this day of technology and when I'm super out there internet wise, but still. My heart actually fucking melts.
I have a great time... but end up getting white girl wasted. I don't remember much from when we started making out to when I was trying to pull my disheveled ass together on the hour drive home. There are signs that I had a wooooooonderful time, but I don't remember a thing. God damn you, ability to drink and drink and drink.
And this is where I lose my shit. If he'd just been some random, this really wouldn't have been an issue. I'd chalk it up to a fun night out for the single and empowered woman and we'd either decide to hang out again or not. Problem is, he's not a random at this point and I actually really like him, and I'm now embarrassed that I can't remember a good portion of our time together and this fucks with my head.
We don't talk much at the beginning of the week. So I do what I do best and freak the fuck out. I stew Wednesday over an unreturned message and finally end up re-proving to myself that I am not in a state where I can handle any kind of emotional anything. I hit him up in the evening, attempt to see what's up and try to explain that I'm feeling weird through my keyboard rather than just making a fucking phone call.
He explains that he's just been busy. So, rather than apologizing for acting like a head case, I lose it completely and tell him peace. And delete him on Facebook, and block him on Instagram, and post stupid status updates about how I attract awful and blah blah fucking blah. I am fucking 12.
I have a great time... but end up getting white girl wasted. I don't remember much from when we started making out to when I was trying to pull my disheveled ass together on the hour drive home. There are signs that I had a wooooooonderful time, but I don't remember a thing. God damn you, ability to drink and drink and drink.
And this is where I lose my shit. If he'd just been some random, this really wouldn't have been an issue. I'd chalk it up to a fun night out for the single and empowered woman and we'd either decide to hang out again or not. Problem is, he's not a random at this point and I actually really like him, and I'm now embarrassed that I can't remember a good portion of our time together and this fucks with my head.
We don't talk much at the beginning of the week. So I do what I do best and freak the fuck out. I stew Wednesday over an unreturned message and finally end up re-proving to myself that I am not in a state where I can handle any kind of emotional anything. I hit him up in the evening, attempt to see what's up and try to explain that I'm feeling weird through my keyboard rather than just making a fucking phone call.
He explains that he's just been busy. So, rather than apologizing for acting like a head case, I lose it completely and tell him peace. And delete him on Facebook, and block him on Instagram, and post stupid status updates about how I attract awful and blah blah fucking blah. I am fucking 12.
* * *
It makes me sad that my head is still so jacked up from the actual awful I've put myself through for... I'd say the summer, but really, life. I took what could have been just a nice time or maybe even a blossoming something and turned it into my own head fuck, without any outside help. And that is just insane.
I've been throwing up walls all around this chest cavity in an attempt to mitigate the possibility of being hurt as much as I have been in the past. And at the sign of even a hairline fracture in the heaviest of these walls, I run for the hills. Or really, I implode and burn up all possibility of anything good coming from anything that makes me feel good.
Pain is a part of life. In it, our empathy is born. It's what helps us to grow and what makes us appreciate those that make us feel good so much. And love, in all its grandeur, can not be what it is without hurt... for how would we truly understand what we have if our hearts had not been put through the ringer before?
I've been telling myself that my recent ability to drop dudes in such short order is just me being experienced in the ways of the asshole. But it's not. It's just me being a scared little girl running away from even the slightest possibility of being hurt. And that is sad. And dumb. And is not helping anything, at all.
And for what it's worth, if you happen to run across this, I'm sorry for being crazy and projecting a barrage of shit that has nothing to do with you. I'll be kicking myself over this for awhile.
Originally posted 10/31/14,
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