I'm afraid that I'm wasting my life.
I'm afraid I'll never get anywhere.
I'm afraid that my own frailty will prevent me from following my dreams
I'm afraid that my dreams aren't even possible for me anymore, if they ever were.
I'm afraid of growing too old with nothing to show for it.
I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid.
Time is running out.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Monday, November 14, 2016
I have privilege.
Quite a lot. If we were to count up the ways in which I have it better than others, the numbers would be staggering. Don't think I don't feel guilty about that. I do. But this isn't a post about that.
This is a post about beauty.
I've always been conventionally attractive. I'm a natural size zero, with D-cup boobs. I have long, shiny hair and big eyes, and I've been told my freckles and crooked smile are cute. My voice is high-pitched and sweet, I giggle a lot, and I'm (usually) charming. So it's no surprise that people find me attractive. While I don't– I suffer from numerous issues, in fact– I can't deny the effect that my general appearance seems to have on people, inscrutable though it is to me.
This has its perks. People are, in general, more friendly to me. I can get free drinks just by asking. People jump up to help me or offer me things, everywhere I go. And it's nice. Even though I don't always want the attention, I would have to be incredibly foolish to deny that it's a privilege.
But there are times when I curse my appearance, and everything that comes with it. Times like now.
One of my dearest friends, one of the people I love most in this world, is mad at me because last time we went out, a man followed us around all night and flirted with me instead of her. She said she's tired of feeling like the token ugly friend, and she's upset that I led him on. Which is valid. I understand what it's like to be ignored. Not by straight men, no– I can count on one hand the number of times I've failed to be the center of attention among groups of potential admirers. But outside of that, in the realm where it matters, I know what it's like to be locked out, to feel cut off from everything. And it's not a nice feeling. It's awful. So I sympathize, I really do.
The thing is, though, I didn't realize what was happening. I thought he was flirting with both of us. I think my friend is one of the most beautiful people in this world, and I know many other people think so, too. So the thought of her being the "ugly friend" just fails to compute. I don't want to dismiss her feelings, because of course she knows her own experiences better than I do, and I'm quite socially awkward, really, so I don't notice things a lot of the time. And of course I will accept blame where blame is due. I did wrong, and I won't deny it. But, that being said, I don't understand. If I were to replay the night over again in my head (and believe me, I have been), I wouldn't be able to pinpoint the moment which I would change in order to make things right. She said she gave me an out, and I didn't take it. But I didn't realize what was happening, and I still don't. I was dissociating the whole night, on the brink of a depressive episode, trying to cope with a horrible midterm that I'd taken an hour before, and even the broadest social cue would have been lost on me, which, apparently, it was. I'm more than sorry, and I would do anything to make this better, but I don't understand how. I know I did wrong, but I don't know what.
It's easy to assign blame in these cases. "If I hadn't..." I say, and then you reply with "Well, but then if he had..." There are so many eventualities, and in the end, they really don't matter. That being said, though, I know that none of this would have happened if I didn't look like this. The man would still have come over to talk to us, because my friend is beautiful, and amazing, and I don't think there's a straight man on earth who wouldn't want to hit on her. But he would have ignored me, which is fine, because I don't want that kind of attention anyway, and she wouldn't have felt so bad. And I wouldn't be in danger now of losing one of the dearest people to my heart.
If I weren't so pretty.
If I didn't smile so much.
If I didn't talk like a Barbie doll.
It sounds petty to complain about these things. I know it does. And maybe, to some extent, it is. Some people would kill to have these problems, even for just a day.
Maybe just a day, though. Awful as it is to say, there are some things that people who aren't conventionally attractive just don't have to worry about.
I have few real friends, mostly because almost everyone either wants to date me, or have sex with me, and I don't want either. And even if I do find someone who likes me for me, inevitably, something like this happens. Everyone ends up jealous of me at some point, and I don't blame them, because it's awful to be in someone's shadow, but it means that I never get to keep anyone in my life, no matter how much I wish for them to stay. On the same token, I could have a date every weekend if I wanted to. Everyone wants to get with me. But it's rare that I find anyone who wants to stay. Once people get past my appearance, I'm just like anyone else, a complicated, broken girl who isn't right for everyone– and I understand, because of course I'm not everyone's cup of tea, and I wouldn't expect to be– but the rate of people loving-and-leaving me is so much higher than normal, and it's demoralizing, sometimes. And I can never go unnoticed. Sometimes, I just want to slink about, not have people stare at me, either like they want to bed me immediately, or they want to fight me for supremacy, but I turn heads everywhere I go, and I can never hide. I can wear my ugliest, rattiest clothes, go out with no makeup and my hair unbrushed, and people will still stop me to ask me out, or stare at me as I walk around, or try to talk to me, and I know I shouldn't complain, but sometimes I don't want attention. When I'm trying to stave off a panic attack, or when I'm struggling not to cry in public, and all I see are eyes, eyes, eyes, it feels like the most unfortunate thing in the world.
I didn't ask to be born this way, nor did I do anything to model myself in any particular likeness. My genes were fortunate, that's all. And it sucks. It's unfair. I know so many people who want so badly to be petite and curvy and feminine like me, and who, through whatever unhappy accident of fate, are not. I feel for them. Even I have wished that I was taller, more muscular, had a less babyish face, a different smile, anything. But in the end, it just comes down to happenstance.
I'm not complaining, not really. I don't deserve to. I'm just grieving the loss of yet another loved one in my life, turned away by my face.
Beauty is a blessing, I know. It's true. But it's a curse, too.
Quite a lot. If we were to count up the ways in which I have it better than others, the numbers would be staggering. Don't think I don't feel guilty about that. I do. But this isn't a post about that.
This is a post about beauty.
I've always been conventionally attractive. I'm a natural size zero, with D-cup boobs. I have long, shiny hair and big eyes, and I've been told my freckles and crooked smile are cute. My voice is high-pitched and sweet, I giggle a lot, and I'm (usually) charming. So it's no surprise that people find me attractive. While I don't– I suffer from numerous issues, in fact– I can't deny the effect that my general appearance seems to have on people, inscrutable though it is to me.
This has its perks. People are, in general, more friendly to me. I can get free drinks just by asking. People jump up to help me or offer me things, everywhere I go. And it's nice. Even though I don't always want the attention, I would have to be incredibly foolish to deny that it's a privilege.
But there are times when I curse my appearance, and everything that comes with it. Times like now.
One of my dearest friends, one of the people I love most in this world, is mad at me because last time we went out, a man followed us around all night and flirted with me instead of her. She said she's tired of feeling like the token ugly friend, and she's upset that I led him on. Which is valid. I understand what it's like to be ignored. Not by straight men, no– I can count on one hand the number of times I've failed to be the center of attention among groups of potential admirers. But outside of that, in the realm where it matters, I know what it's like to be locked out, to feel cut off from everything. And it's not a nice feeling. It's awful. So I sympathize, I really do.
The thing is, though, I didn't realize what was happening. I thought he was flirting with both of us. I think my friend is one of the most beautiful people in this world, and I know many other people think so, too. So the thought of her being the "ugly friend" just fails to compute. I don't want to dismiss her feelings, because of course she knows her own experiences better than I do, and I'm quite socially awkward, really, so I don't notice things a lot of the time. And of course I will accept blame where blame is due. I did wrong, and I won't deny it. But, that being said, I don't understand. If I were to replay the night over again in my head (and believe me, I have been), I wouldn't be able to pinpoint the moment which I would change in order to make things right. She said she gave me an out, and I didn't take it. But I didn't realize what was happening, and I still don't. I was dissociating the whole night, on the brink of a depressive episode, trying to cope with a horrible midterm that I'd taken an hour before, and even the broadest social cue would have been lost on me, which, apparently, it was. I'm more than sorry, and I would do anything to make this better, but I don't understand how. I know I did wrong, but I don't know what.
It's easy to assign blame in these cases. "If I hadn't..." I say, and then you reply with "Well, but then if he had..." There are so many eventualities, and in the end, they really don't matter. That being said, though, I know that none of this would have happened if I didn't look like this. The man would still have come over to talk to us, because my friend is beautiful, and amazing, and I don't think there's a straight man on earth who wouldn't want to hit on her. But he would have ignored me, which is fine, because I don't want that kind of attention anyway, and she wouldn't have felt so bad. And I wouldn't be in danger now of losing one of the dearest people to my heart.
If I weren't so pretty.
If I didn't smile so much.
If I didn't talk like a Barbie doll.
It sounds petty to complain about these things. I know it does. And maybe, to some extent, it is. Some people would kill to have these problems, even for just a day.
Maybe just a day, though. Awful as it is to say, there are some things that people who aren't conventionally attractive just don't have to worry about.
I have few real friends, mostly because almost everyone either wants to date me, or have sex with me, and I don't want either. And even if I do find someone who likes me for me, inevitably, something like this happens. Everyone ends up jealous of me at some point, and I don't blame them, because it's awful to be in someone's shadow, but it means that I never get to keep anyone in my life, no matter how much I wish for them to stay. On the same token, I could have a date every weekend if I wanted to. Everyone wants to get with me. But it's rare that I find anyone who wants to stay. Once people get past my appearance, I'm just like anyone else, a complicated, broken girl who isn't right for everyone– and I understand, because of course I'm not everyone's cup of tea, and I wouldn't expect to be– but the rate of people loving-and-leaving me is so much higher than normal, and it's demoralizing, sometimes. And I can never go unnoticed. Sometimes, I just want to slink about, not have people stare at me, either like they want to bed me immediately, or they want to fight me for supremacy, but I turn heads everywhere I go, and I can never hide. I can wear my ugliest, rattiest clothes, go out with no makeup and my hair unbrushed, and people will still stop me to ask me out, or stare at me as I walk around, or try to talk to me, and I know I shouldn't complain, but sometimes I don't want attention. When I'm trying to stave off a panic attack, or when I'm struggling not to cry in public, and all I see are eyes, eyes, eyes, it feels like the most unfortunate thing in the world.
I didn't ask to be born this way, nor did I do anything to model myself in any particular likeness. My genes were fortunate, that's all. And it sucks. It's unfair. I know so many people who want so badly to be petite and curvy and feminine like me, and who, through whatever unhappy accident of fate, are not. I feel for them. Even I have wished that I was taller, more muscular, had a less babyish face, a different smile, anything. But in the end, it just comes down to happenstance.
I'm not complaining, not really. I don't deserve to. I'm just grieving the loss of yet another loved one in my life, turned away by my face.
Beauty is a blessing, I know. It's true. But it's a curse, too.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Get to know me!
I like to read my old posts sometimes, so today I was scrolling through this blog, and I happened upon this gem. I really admire that I've had the foresight to do this all these years! I believe there was also one that I made in maybe tenth grade, so I'll try to dig that up as well, just for comparison purposes. Ed: I found it.
But now, I'm going to fill it out again, because I'm 21 now, and that's another benchmark. So, here we go!
..
Favorites~
Season: Fall, but each of them are nice in their way.
Singer: I have a big, gay crush on Nicki Minaj. I also love Lykke Li and Lana Del Rey and Marina and Grimes and basically, all the ladies. And of course, I love the Greats like Natalie Dessay.
Song: November Rain by Guns'N'Roses
Color: Pink
Cosmetic: It's hard to say, because I can't really pick just one. But I could never do without my chapstick, so I'd have to say that.
Animal: My guinea pig, of course, and I also love moths and butterflies and penguins and birds! I also think my Fursona would be a kitten.
Food: Strawberry croissants from Bruin Cafe tbh
Outfit: It depends on how I'm feeling. My favorite lecture outfit is my black skater skirt, belt, and gray half-sleeve top, but I also love knotted cardigans and crop tops and sundresses. And if I'm going to a party, of course I'm going to get the Tity out.
Perfume: My signature scent is Japanese cherry blossom.
Drink: Grande double-shot Americano with a splash of cream.
Possession: I guess my phone and my laptop. But I really value people more than things, of course ♥
Car: My dream car is a manual transmission Volkswagon Jetta, but I think I would like anything at this point. I'd really rather have a manual than an automatic, though.
Subject: Linguistics by default, but also cognitive science and computer science and literature. And then art history! And regular history. And then poly sci and econ, too, but then I have to go to math, and how can you have math without science? But I love the humanities, so philosophy. And how could I forget, foreign languages!!! French is my very favorite.
Book: Les Misérables by Victor Hugo ♥♥ Another (not as much, but nothing could ever rival my Les Mis love) would be Swann's Way by Marcel Proust, and it's not really a book as much as a collection, but Vladimir Nabokov's short stories oh my goodness. And then of course I love The Brothers Karamozov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. And of course, poetry!
Type of person: Generally, I get along well with everyone. But I'm a Social Justice Warrior™ so I might find it more difficult to find common ground with a really bigoted person.
Type of boy: This is really heteronormative. I like boys and girls and other genders, too. But anyway, I don't really have a "type" per se. I'm attracted to kindness and humor and intelligence, but the most important thing is that we're friends.
Game: I'm really good at beer pong, actually. But anything can be fun if you're drunk enough.
Song on the top ten: (literally had to google for the charts right now. I'm so old) Just Like Fire by Pink. It's so feisty and fun, and it was super cute in Through the Looking Glass.
Now my least favorites!
Season: None, although I get sad when I have to be at home for any amount of time.
Singer: I don't think this is a nice question, so I won't answer it. I do have a lot of Opinions about problematic people, though.
Song: There's a lot of songs I object to for various reasons. I couldn't really single out one.
Color: None. I think every color has its time to shine.
Car: I don't support Ford, or several other brands of that nature.
Animal: None.
Food: Hospital food. I sometimes still have nightmares about that "chicken."
Cosmetic: I don't support brands that test on animals. I have a list somewhere, and I can probably dig it up if needed.
Outfit: Anything that makes me feel less than confident. I don't wear pants much.
Possession: My existential angst and debilitating mental illness lmao
Perfume: Again, anything that tests on animals, or is otherwise oppressive.
Drink: Beer
Book: Oh gosh I have a lot. Although, now that I think about it, I think I've been angered more by certain academic articles of late.
Subject: This is a little petty, but I have a grudge against anthropologists. I think they're so hypocritical and myopic and culturally appropriative (among other things) and they don't even have all their facts, but they still go around spewing hateful, half-baked rhetoric, and they're so insufferable and mean and just ugh. Okay, I'm calm. I'm calm.
Tyoe of person: This isn't very nice.
Type of boy: I'm not answering this one, either.
Game: Once, my brother and I played Spin-The-Bottle, and we were in the same room. I couldn't possibly be drunk enough to forget the sight of him macking on his boo. Never again. (I do like Spin-The-Bottle, though, because I'm a huge flirt)
Song on the top ten: Whatever that one is by Meghan Trainor, because I don't think she's a very nice person, and I have a lot of issues with her for various reasons.
..
So that was that! I'll be interested to look at this later and see how things have changed. I think these things are always so exciting, because it just goes to show how life is such a fluid thing! We're always growing and learning and changing, hopefully for the better. We don't stay static, and that's wonderful. I hope that when I do this again in however many years, my answers will again be completely different.
But now, I'm going to fill it out again, because I'm 21 now, and that's another benchmark. So, here we go!
..
Favorites~
Season: Fall, but each of them are nice in their way.
Singer: I have a big, gay crush on Nicki Minaj. I also love Lykke Li and Lana Del Rey and Marina and Grimes and basically, all the ladies. And of course, I love the Greats like Natalie Dessay.
Song: November Rain by Guns'N'Roses
Color: Pink
Cosmetic: It's hard to say, because I can't really pick just one. But I could never do without my chapstick, so I'd have to say that.
Animal: My guinea pig, of course, and I also love moths and butterflies and penguins and birds! I also think my Fursona would be a kitten.
Food: Strawberry croissants from Bruin Cafe tbh
Outfit: It depends on how I'm feeling. My favorite lecture outfit is my black skater skirt, belt, and gray half-sleeve top, but I also love knotted cardigans and crop tops and sundresses. And if I'm going to a party, of course I'm going to get the Tity out.
Perfume: My signature scent is Japanese cherry blossom.
Drink: Grande double-shot Americano with a splash of cream.
Possession: I guess my phone and my laptop. But I really value people more than things, of course ♥
Car: My dream car is a manual transmission Volkswagon Jetta, but I think I would like anything at this point. I'd really rather have a manual than an automatic, though.
Subject: Linguistics by default, but also cognitive science and computer science and literature. And then art history! And regular history. And then poly sci and econ, too, but then I have to go to math, and how can you have math without science? But I love the humanities, so philosophy. And how could I forget, foreign languages!!! French is my very favorite.
Book: Les Misérables by Victor Hugo ♥♥ Another (not as much, but nothing could ever rival my Les Mis love) would be Swann's Way by Marcel Proust, and it's not really a book as much as a collection, but Vladimir Nabokov's short stories oh my goodness. And then of course I love The Brothers Karamozov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. And of course, poetry!
Type of person: Generally, I get along well with everyone. But I'm a Social Justice Warrior™ so I might find it more difficult to find common ground with a really bigoted person.
Type of boy: This is really heteronormative. I like boys and girls and other genders, too. But anyway, I don't really have a "type" per se. I'm attracted to kindness and humor and intelligence, but the most important thing is that we're friends.
Game: I'm really good at beer pong, actually. But anything can be fun if you're drunk enough.
Song on the top ten: (literally had to google for the charts right now. I'm so old) Just Like Fire by Pink. It's so feisty and fun, and it was super cute in Through the Looking Glass.
Now my least favorites!
Season: None, although I get sad when I have to be at home for any amount of time.
Singer: I don't think this is a nice question, so I won't answer it. I do have a lot of Opinions about problematic people, though.
Song: There's a lot of songs I object to for various reasons. I couldn't really single out one.
Color: None. I think every color has its time to shine.
Car: I don't support Ford, or several other brands of that nature.
Animal: None.
Food: Hospital food. I sometimes still have nightmares about that "chicken."
Cosmetic: I don't support brands that test on animals. I have a list somewhere, and I can probably dig it up if needed.
Outfit: Anything that makes me feel less than confident. I don't wear pants much.
Possession: My existential angst and debilitating mental illness lmao
Perfume: Again, anything that tests on animals, or is otherwise oppressive.
Drink: Beer
Book: Oh gosh I have a lot. Although, now that I think about it, I think I've been angered more by certain academic articles of late.
Subject: This is a little petty, but I have a grudge against anthropologists. I think they're so hypocritical and myopic and culturally appropriative (among other things) and they don't even have all their facts, but they still go around spewing hateful, half-baked rhetoric, and they're so insufferable and mean and just ugh. Okay, I'm calm. I'm calm.
Tyoe of person: This isn't very nice.
Type of boy: I'm not answering this one, either.
Game: Once, my brother and I played Spin-The-Bottle, and we were in the same room. I couldn't possibly be drunk enough to forget the sight of him macking on his boo. Never again. (I do like Spin-The-Bottle, though, because I'm a huge flirt)
Song on the top ten: Whatever that one is by Meghan Trainor, because I don't think she's a very nice person, and I have a lot of issues with her for various reasons.
..
So that was that! I'll be interested to look at this later and see how things have changed. I think these things are always so exciting, because it just goes to show how life is such a fluid thing! We're always growing and learning and changing, hopefully for the better. We don't stay static, and that's wonderful. I hope that when I do this again in however many years, my answers will again be completely different.
Monday, August 1, 2016
A list of all the Les Mis-related tabs open on my computer
Because tumblr isn't working:
a cute author
another cute author
more
and another
an excellent tumblr artist
another really awesome artist
and another lovely artist
dress that reminds me of Enjolras
Super amazing artist
barricade day!
gav n enj
pouty bby
literal baby enjolras
the otp
a Very Cute thing
a Good artist
the friends
cosette!
PONYTAIL
sunshine angel
A HELLA CUTE COMIC
a Comic
vive la france!
ferre’s speech
abc
All Of Them
REALLY REALLY HECKIN CUUUUUTE
good artist
awwwwwwwwwwww
the Trio
I think it’s courfeyrac
same
colorful
same artist as above
REALLY CUTE COMICCCCCC
snowy!
r carrying e
excellent artist
nsfw ;)
another super duper artist
They Hug
ooh lala
babies
I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s Cute
ER
little bean
all the grantaires
EC
cute drawings
small
a good comic
so very in love
one of my faaaavorite thiiiings
some cute pics
another good artist
enj n ferre
an excellent artist
the good good
prouvaire
very anime
a good one
les cats
more er
a cute author
another cute author
more
and another
an excellent tumblr artist
another really awesome artist
and another lovely artist
dress that reminds me of Enjolras
Super amazing artist
barricade day!
gav n enj
pouty bby
literal baby enjolras
the otp
a Very Cute thing
a Good artist
the friends
cosette!
PONYTAIL
sunshine angel
A HELLA CUTE COMIC
a Comic
vive la france!
ferre’s speech
abc
All Of Them
REALLY REALLY HECKIN CUUUUUTE
good artist
awwwwwwwwwwww
the Trio
I think it’s courfeyrac
same
colorful
same artist as above
REALLY CUTE COMICCCCCC
snowy!
r carrying e
excellent artist
nsfw ;)
another super duper artist
They Hug
ooh lala
babies
I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s Cute
ER
little bean
all the grantaires
EC
cute drawings
small
a good comic
so very in love
one of my faaaavorite thiiiings
some cute pics
another good artist
enj n ferre
an excellent artist
the good good
prouvaire
very anime
a good one
les cats
more er
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Some people are so awful. I'm not even talking about the people who commit atrocities on a large scale or anything. Just common, everyday people. They're so rude and mean. I try not to be bothered, because I'm a big believer in trying to understand where people are coming from, and all that. But still, I think I must be a bit nasty myself, because I get so upset sometimes. Just, all this vitriol, all this hatred, it seems so unnecessary.
I'm not saying we shouldn't get mad about things. That would be ridiculous. When things happen everyday like what we're seeing on the news, it's impossible not to be incensed. But if that's the case, how does anyone have any hatred leftover for their fellow people? I'm furious at the bigots and hatemongerers and people who should be called criminals, but who are protected by privilege, and the benefits of an unfair society. Who wouldn't be? And I would definitely punch them in the face, or (more likely) write a seven-page essay decrying them in great detail. But I /wouldn't/ publicly mock someone about their appearance because I didn't agree with their political views, and I wouldn't message people to tell them horrible things for no real reason at all.
Well, I can't be too quick to judge. Maybe there are things I don't know.
But it bothers me anyway. I can't seem to stop it.
Am I too soft? I've always thought so. There was a time when I actively tried to make myself harder, but it wasn't me, and I was so unhappy. So I went back, but honestly, it's ridiculous. I don't like bad language (I tell everyone that I don't curse because it sounds funny, and that's true, but it sounds funny because I don't like it), and I don't like to raise my voice, and I get upset when people insult me. My first instinct is to smile when I see someone smiling even remotely in my direction, and I feel bad for hours if I accidentally close a door on someone or cut them in line. It's too much.
I hate the word "bitch." I hate it, hate it, hate it. I said it by mistake the other day while I was driving, and I still feel bad about it (you don't understand- I want to flagellate myself or something). So, I hate the word "binch" as well. It's not okay just because it's a different word. You're obviously using it in the same way, to mean the same thing.
But whatever. I shouldn't be trying to regulate people's speech patterns just because they make me uncomfortable. So I need to stop it.
I'm just going to stop talking to people. Who would like me, soft and sensitive as I am? I have fire, but only for causes outside myself. And I'm not fun. So I'll stop.
Whatever.
It doesn't matter.
I'm not saying we shouldn't get mad about things. That would be ridiculous. When things happen everyday like what we're seeing on the news, it's impossible not to be incensed. But if that's the case, how does anyone have any hatred leftover for their fellow people? I'm furious at the bigots and hatemongerers and people who should be called criminals, but who are protected by privilege, and the benefits of an unfair society. Who wouldn't be? And I would definitely punch them in the face, or (more likely) write a seven-page essay decrying them in great detail. But I /wouldn't/ publicly mock someone about their appearance because I didn't agree with their political views, and I wouldn't message people to tell them horrible things for no real reason at all.
Well, I can't be too quick to judge. Maybe there are things I don't know.
But it bothers me anyway. I can't seem to stop it.
Am I too soft? I've always thought so. There was a time when I actively tried to make myself harder, but it wasn't me, and I was so unhappy. So I went back, but honestly, it's ridiculous. I don't like bad language (I tell everyone that I don't curse because it sounds funny, and that's true, but it sounds funny because I don't like it), and I don't like to raise my voice, and I get upset when people insult me. My first instinct is to smile when I see someone smiling even remotely in my direction, and I feel bad for hours if I accidentally close a door on someone or cut them in line. It's too much.
I hate the word "bitch." I hate it, hate it, hate it. I said it by mistake the other day while I was driving, and I still feel bad about it (you don't understand- I want to flagellate myself or something). So, I hate the word "binch" as well. It's not okay just because it's a different word. You're obviously using it in the same way, to mean the same thing.
But whatever. I shouldn't be trying to regulate people's speech patterns just because they make me uncomfortable. So I need to stop it.
I'm just going to stop talking to people. Who would like me, soft and sensitive as I am? I have fire, but only for causes outside myself. And I'm not fun. So I'll stop.
Whatever.
It doesn't matter.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
I think my heart is about to burst, but not in an everything-is-so-great kind of way, because you see, things are not so great. In point of fact, things are terrible. I think my entrails are dissolving from anxiety. Which is, you know, not so comfortable.
Why, you ask, is Maria having yet another Time? What ridiculously inconsequential thing happened to set off her meltdown this time? Well, now. That's a good question. However, its answer is not so good. Let me tell you, and you shall see why things have fallen into place this way.
So.
Boys.
That's a punchy opener, isn't it? It's short and brief and to the point, and it encapsulates perfectly the struggle of man (or men, as the case may be).
Anyway. I've made friends with Trace, as you know, and it's quite nice and we get along and everything is Swell Beans (as they say). Recently, though, we've moved into the friends-plus category, which is okay for me, although I don't want any feelings involved. Now, here's the tricky part. You see, Xander and Trace are best buddies. They've been friends for years, and they get along well (which is rather rare for Xander). I thought Xander was okay with it when I made friends with Trace, and I thought he was okay with us becoming friends with benefits, because Trace told me that he knew and had given explicit permission. So I thought he knew, and out of delicacy for his feelings, I didn't really talk about it, because who wants to know that their little sister made out with someone? I certainly don't.
Okay! So now comes the tricky part. It seems that Xander really didn't know that we were getting involved. And now that he knows, he's mad about it. Or, maybe mad isn't the right word. He's angsty. Or something. At any rate, he's not happy. It's not even that he doesn't want us to be involved (because I could understand that); he's upset that we're friends at all. Because he thinks that I'm going to steal Trace away from him. I talked about this yesterday, or whenever it was that I made my previous post, but things haven't gotten any better. I keep dodging Trace's efforts to hang out with me, and ignoring his texts, and all that, because I really don't know what to do. Tonight, I asked Xander point-blank if he minded us being involved (in any capacity) and he said there was no easy answer to that, which basically means that he minds. So I suppose I have to do something, but I don't know what. I've never been good at this, and now that it's my own family involved, it's much much worse.
Now, okay, I guess it's my natural not-being-good-at-social-interaction-ness speaking, but I???? just do not????? understand???????? To me, friends are always good. I always love to meet new people and talk to them and get to know them (depending on if I'm feeling up to it, but I'm speaking generally). So, I don't think there's a limit on friends, like wow I have three, I have to get rid of one if I want to make another, I mean come on, friends aren't video game inventories! Just because I know Trace now doesn't mean he has to stop knowing Xander! It boggles my mind why he would think that.
Maybe it's because I don't understand the concept of jealousy. I know people get jealous, like I see them talk about it, and yeah, I feel it sometimes too because I'm a human and it's a normal human emotion, but I don't understand letting it corrode an entire relationship. If I'm jealous of someone, it says much more about me than them. So maybe I'm just not predisposed to understand. Well, if that's the case, then maybe I'm lacking in empathy. I don't know. It might be a problem.
Okay, but then again, I don't know? I don't think I did anything wrong. I'm a pretty friendly person, you know, and I talk a lot if I'm comfortable with someone. I text people all the time. (Actually– remind me to make another post about this, because I've grown and matured so much and I've learned to manage my anxiety so much better (I'm still not good though) and it's really cool, so let me talk about it sometime.) So it's not even necessarily that I'm "talking" with Trace (although I guess I sort of am), because I'm like this with everyone. Good morning text? Motivational messages? Random messages telling them how great they are and how much I appreciate them? Obscene use of emojis and exclamation points? You betcha. I just love the people in my life, and I want to show them that, and if I can make them happy, I want to do so as much as I can. But that's my style. So it shouldn't reflect badly on Xander if he doesn't do those things, because that's not who he is, and his friends like him for him, not because he fits some kind of stereotypical mold of a "good friend" (whatever that is).
I don't know. I feel for Xander. I really do. But I don't know what to do about it.
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