Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Maybe.

I want to say I feel better, but I think every time I say that something happens. :P

I'm good. Enjoying the company of friends who are checking in a little more often than usual and fronting like they actually want to talk to my boring ass.

Work is hella busy and I'm working on interesting stuff so it's been a blessing. My friends have been kind enough to not leave me alone and drag me around with them, so I think I only feel sad when Pandora or my iPod conspire to remind me that even though love is hard, perseverance exists and you can choose to stick it through and make it work and thats what makes it extra special.


One of my loves gave me something to think about. I think the hardest part for me has been the thought that I had found someone that I was ridiculously compatible with, and in all honesty, I had never met anyone who fit me as well in all my twenty-six years of being and I realize that there are no guarantees that I ever will again. So it hurt that he felt the same way, but was willing to take that chance out of sheer laziness. Also, I know what I want out of a relationship now and, I wont lie, I'm a little scared that I wont ever find someone who finds all my annoyingnesses amusing and loves my uncuteness and finds my knowitallness refreshing.

(Still waiting for what my friend gave me to think about? lol) Aaaaaaanyhooo, I was talking with my friend about this and she said maybe he felt that way about my (perceived) imperfections because he loved me. Not that he loved me because of them. I had to take like 3 days to think about that one.

And maybe she's right.

Maybe someone will fall in love with all the fun energetic life-is-beautiful-first-thing-in-the-morning, ridiculous-amounts-of-useless-information, i'll-try-most-things-once and everything-can-be-laughed-at of me, and because of that still love the I-wear-my-own-hair-and-makeup-is-a-chore-and-my-lips-stay-chapped-ness of me with my i-have-to-have-the-last-word-and-i-am-absolutely-always-right and maybe even not commit suicide at how I have yet to meet my match at stubbornness. And maybe even not care that I don't cook*.

Maybe. :)




*Yes, sharrap, I still maintain that I don't cook. Even if it does seem like every time you call me I'm cooking something new, I am not advertising that, because months hit that I retire from the kitchen.


Saturday, November 06, 2010

I don't think I've felt this alone since 9/11.

This too shall pass. It just needs to hurry the fuck up.