As We Were, So Perfect, So Happy

I’m sorry, the song was just too…perfect. It reminds me of what had been, and makes me wish I had something again. I guess, here I am again, play Devil’s Advocate with myself. I’m telling myself that the only reason I like the song and want something again is because I thrive for conflict and because conflict challenges me to smooth things over. I want to find a relationship just to fuck it up and try to smooth it over. But that’s not what I want!

I want to know that someone really cares about me. I want to fall back into optimistic bliss that I miss so much. I want to leave this cynicism behind and no longer have to hold my head so high above the world and pretend I’m so composed. I want someone to support me, and I want to be able to have weak moments. I want to be able to be girly, and I hate that for so long, I haven’t considered myself a girl. I seriously have spent so much time at Robotics this past quarter that I jokingly would disregard my female-ness and comment on female silliness as if I wasn’t lumped together with them in a gender group. I didn’t consider myself a guy, per se¸ but I didn’t see myself as a girl. I want to be able to find the perfect guy and know that my best friend is suffering because her idiot of a boyfriend got bad grades again and can’t do anything or that he’s not that supportive and I have to once again hold her and tell her she’s not messed up. I just want to leave this single-dom. I’m done with being single…I can’t believe I used to think this was a game and was proud of being single…

You know what’s another great song that makes me think about old relationships? FMLYHM by Seether. Of course, that’s a little more about…revenge sex than it is about anything else, but I still like it. Eh.

You know what’s silly? I was reading things about palm reading, and apparently, guys with really gaudy pinky rings are compensating for something, but when a girl wears a delicate ring on her pinky, she’s looking for action. Against my better judgment, I want a really cute/intricate ring for my pinky. Ranging from a simple, thin silver band to a silver band with an interesting knot on it, I just want something…but nothing fits my pinky! The surprising thing is, I know that I’m just asking for sex with it, and with the whole power of palm reading/the-power-of-suggestion, I’m probably going to get it as soon as I have that ring, but that’s kind of the ulterior-motive thing…I realize that I can jokingly do that to people: play around and hint at asking, but when it comes to actually getting to it, I’m really divided…It’s the worst thing ever: wondering where hormones start and where my real conscience, morals, and motives end.

Silly me! I’m so tired of my beating myself up and making me feel like I’m not even worthy of good people. I swear, that’s why I let myself fall victim so easily to pressure and the worst things in the world. That’s why I don’t stop the things that happen to me that I really don’t want. I torture and punish myself by giving myself up to guys who will treat me like I’m only there for sex. I’m so tired of me thinking I’m not good enough, and I don’t want to admit it, but I want someone just for the reason of improving self-esteem and confidence. Why is it so hard to see some value in the small details about myself without some testosterone body reassuring me that he’s not lying when he says there’s so much more to me than I thought? You know what? I’m giving up. No more playing around…I hope. If only I could stop myself, you know?

Whatever. I’m moving on to my next topic.

I was talking to James in an online conversation. I was seriously giggling myself silly…for some reason. I mean, looking back on the conversation, it was the epitome of nerd and I was beaming with pride, but I couldn’t see why I had been so giddy. I guess…I’m still mixed about my feelings for him. I really like him, and he’s a really good friend, but am I sure that I want to change that state? He’s definitely nerdy enough to entertain me. He’s definitely creative enough to come up with comments to retaliate mine. He’s definitely smart enough, nice enough, and sweet enough to keep me happy, but the horrible thing is, I think a reason I don’t want him is because he’s a little fluffier than I would like. I am such a whore.

But apparently, I get a whole ton of 20-sided dice on Monday…We are looking forward to starting a new group of Dungeons and Dragons (I am such a nerd…I can’t lie) and I’ve finally given up on seeming so elegant and perfect and strong. Oh, this anecdote amused me:

My icon on GoogleTalk is a demonic, Succubus figure and James commented on how GoogleTalk had shrunken the picture to a point where it was hard to tell what it was. Slightly disappointed at the size of the icon, I sent him the full picture and giggled when he said that it fit me well.

“btw verry funny icon.. it is you!
so damn evil”

It’s these comments that keep my inner vixen alive and well…but then again, I’m just throwing these pieces of comment-bait out and bursting with pride and joy when someone takes the bait. I’m sorry, she’s just so hard to fully put away. Not everyone’s a saint like you are.

-I Only Wanted A Little Bite, It Won’t Hurt
Scarlet Bloodmoon

Title From: The Approaching Curve by Rise Against