May 4, 2009 § Leave a comment
This is an emopost. I just wanted to warn you. Even I need to be way too emotional and silly from time to time. This is one of those times.
I’m right now looking for patterns, or rather, I know the patterns but I’m looking for reasons. I have been single for a bunch of years now, and everytime I meet someone I think have the potentiality of becoming special, I fcuk it up. Or rather, they do, too. Either both of us or one of us. It’s a lot of fcuking up going on, actually. I’d like to know why.
My dance teachers used to tell the leads that if a hundred followers do the samething, then it’s probably not them, it’s you. Very appliable on everything else in life. It’s probably not really them fcucking up, it’s probably me acting in a way that makes them go all weirded out. It’s most likely me.
But figuring that part out doesn’t help that much. I’ve changed so many patterns, I’ve learned how to communicate my emotions (ehm, ok, I’ve learned how to do it better, at least), I’ve learned to not freak out and go all ARGH GAH on people when they decide to back off. I’ve learned to give people a chance. So on. I’m a good girl! But damnit, the stuff is still the same. I’m still just as single as I was the day I broke my last relationship in my early twenties (5 years ago).
So what am I doing wrong? Ladies and gentlemen, please tell me, because I can’t find the damn way back to lalalove-land. Ok, I do hate heteronormative relationships. So, no I don’t go looking for that. But in desperate times desperate meassures. I would even be ready to try that. All I want is some hugs.
You know, the best part about a relationship is that you have the priviligue of being able to love someone almost as much as you want. In casual sex-land, we can’t do that. I’m defining relationship very loosly here, it doesn’t have to be between two people, it can be any number you like. But just me alone isn’t gonna cut it. However much I like me, I can’t spend my days walking around and practising how to kiss myself and tell me I look so sweet in that t-shirt.
All I want is some god damn love. All I ever find is some halfassed explanations about “it’s not [pronoun], it’s [pronoun]”.
Am I really that crap that I’m not even worth a chance? Will I have to accept that I will be lonely, for the rest of my life, and just sit down and deal with it. Get a cat maybe. Accept that I’m social and have lots of friends, but just not the type that you like in *that* way.
Ok, I’m done now. I’m gonna lie down on my bed here in Umeå, stare at the ceiling and wish that I didn’t wish for anything more.
Oh, and the move? All good. Love this place. But a city can’t hug back.