Sunday, October 28, 2012


"Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them."
Read that today and found myself instinctively uttering "Ay gueyyy!"
Fuck, that's true... fuck.
I can't say it's 100 percent correct because, like I've said, I get vicious when not given "alone time." I REQUIRE alone time... or else heads start to roll.
But... this quote does apply to me... often.

I'm trying to let more people in... but it's a scary... because it reinforces the fact that no one is capable of eliciting the same... sensations in me as Darcy-- I'm talking initial impressions here... they can't even match that.

D: Why are you so stuck on him?
Me: I don't even know... it's just... there. I gravitate towards him. No one has ever had this effect on me. At all.
D: Does he know?
Me: That I dig him more than anything in the universe? I don't think so... I don't even talk in his presence. My dumbass freezes up like... a fucking idiot. I'm a mute. He knows I have a crush on him because I actually told him... but other than that it's like "Oh yeah, that girl." Do you know how many times he has called me by my real name? ONCE. Because his mom forced him to. ONCE. And I'm still stupid like this.
D: ... I don't know what to tell you. Maybe if he would have told you something... like... given you a reason to be this sprung... told you he had a crush on you too... told you to wait for him or something... Maybe I could help you out then... but... uh... that doesn't seem to be the case... so...
Me: Yeah. I think I'm this stubborn because... my stupid heart and head just... wish he would have told me something. I'd follow this dude to any part of the world if he'd asked me to... I'd wait for as many years as he'd ask, if he wanted me to. But... all I've gotten from him is a metaphorical pat to the top of my head... like when one forcefully compliments someone's annoying kid at a party. It kills me that he has never intentionally done anything to get me this sprung... but I still can't find a way to forget and move on. I can't forget. I don't want to forget. I'm just being this stubborn, fucking idiot girl, slowly digging her own, lonely grave... most likely pestering THE FUCK out of this poor guy to the point where he'll actually probably hate me.
D: I'm sorry. That sucks. There's vodka and rum in the kitchen... and red velvet cake.

My sister and I have never been too great at discussing this sort of shit... but we sure as hell know how to change subjects.
That red velvet cake was absolutely DISGUSTING.

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