will it ever go away?

It’s not that I still like him…it’s that I don’t like him at all. Every girl says it. She claims that she hates the boy who screwed her over, or let her down, or saddened her beyond belief. But does she mean it? Yes and no. She doesn’t like him (well, she may)…but her hate for him is much, much stronger.

It’s not that I want him to be mine. But I don’t want him to be with anybody else. You think you get over someone. To some extent, you are. I can fully say that I am 100% – no, 150% over my ex’s. I don’t wish to be with them, I don’t want them back, I simply don’t need them anymore.

Do I want to see them happy? No. Do I care? No.

This sounds like a bold-faced lie, I know. But it’s true. When I am feeling alone and single as hell…I don’t want to see my ex yucking it up with a girl at a party. Even more so, I don’t want to see him happy with a new girl.

That is the worst. Because whether we like it or not, there will always be competition with our ex’s (unless you’re weirdly best friends, or something…but even then…).

I, currently, am the single-st person on the entire planet. I don’t have anyone I am seeing, I haven’t seen anyone in months, and I truly am not interested in any male companion around me right now. Sure, that is my decision…but I am trying to steer clear of douche bags (do you know how hard that is to do?). Do I want to come across a photo of my ex boyfriend with a girl that he is seeing…and do I want him to look happy in the photo? Hell no…

Why would any girl want to see this? This just makes me upset.

This is the reason girls get tinder…I’m telling you.

Now I’m rambling. Wow, I am doing that a lot lately. Maybe this is just where I ramble. All I am saying, is that I saw a photo of my ex tonight with his new girlfriend and look where it lead me. This post was born.

This is awful. I’m going to bed.

how she sees it.

She takes out the key, places it in the lock and clicks it open. She opens to plain darkness. Nothing but a big, empty bed waiting for her to sleep the hours away. The moonlight catches the shadows of her clothing rack, her nightstand, and the three empty cans of diet coke she polished off earlier. Slippers are strewn about the floor, along with two pairs of wrinkled jeans.

She dumps her things on the bench beside her, leaving the room in darkness, admiring the sterile sound in the error. Nothing. No one. It’s just her, the empty cans of diet coke, along with other meaningless items.

As she sits on the edge of the mattress, thoughts and whispers swirl around her – clouding her thoughts and memories as she desperately tries to remember what it was like. What touching felt like. How she longed to place her head on his chest. Or run her toes up his shin. How his hair used to feel between her fingers. The way the moonlight used to catch his jaw line, creating the silhouette every girl would melt over.

It wasn’t too long ago that this room felt happy. It was filled with the warmth of love and strength and safety. Laughter bounced off the walls, showering love and creating a bond between them that was unbreakable.

Until her.

Until the person that eventually did break them. How one came between them, she will never know.

As she draws the blinds, preventing the light of the moon from capturing anything inside, she looks out to see him there. Standing three stories down, sitting on her lawn. It’s not him…it can’t be him. He’s gone.

She lingers because she’s confused. Could it be him? Is he really sitting there, looking as if he has a purpose – a reason – to be there? Just as she’s about to look away, he catches her eye, smiles and approaches the porch. Panick strikes and she freezes. She can hear her heart beating a thousand miles a minute.

It’s 1AM. Footsteps get louder. The knob turns. There he is, standing there. Captured by the moon light, like he once was. She can’t help but look deep into his eyes from across the room. Searching.

Searching for an indication to why he is standing in her bedroom. After all that they have been through.

Her feet won’t move. Her heart has already jumped. In fact, her heart never came back with her after he left. He has had her heart the entire time.

Falling backwards into her pillow, she shuts her eyes tight. Hoping for anything other than the situation she is in now. She opens her eyes and he is gone.

Was he ever really there? No.

Did her feelings ever go away? No.

She sees the things that she feels. Feelings dictate her life, and in this case, the people that appear in her life.

the mind that doesn’t rest.

I think being single is a lifestyle. That sounds like a pretty simple statement…but think about it. Sure, you may be single for two months or two years at a time…but when you do find yourself truly single, you live an entirely different life then when you were paired up with another person.

When you wake up in the morning, you don’t stare into the beautiful eyes of your loved one, you most likely roll over on to your very well loved (and used) body pillow. When you go to Starbucks, you are only buying for one…not two. When planning the costume for the Halloween party your friend is having, you’re going as sexy something rather than that cliche couple costume.

Why am I giving you all of these examples? Well, for once, I am single and have been living this “lifestyle” for a long time. That is the arbitrary answer. There is some truth to what I am saying about singledom (as I like to call it). You aren’t thinking of anyone but yourself. Now that sounds super selfish, I know…but it is complete and utter honesty. So if the singles are being selfish, treating themselves to Starbucks and the sexiest costumes of the bunch…then why do people complain about it so often?

Why does this blog even exist? Because there is something attractive about being chained to another person. Linked up to them, knowing their feelings, heart and mind all at once. Knowing that when you roll over in the morning and see the big beautiful eyes of your significant other, that makes it all worth it…and that is what we all long for.

Now I am single and if I wanted to, I could wake up to many different pairs of beautiful eyes…day after day, night after night. But would I see anything in those eyes? Would I see memories, hope or a life with me? No, because most likely they woudl be closed (because he would be asleep, duh). But also because it’s not the same kind of eyes that I am talking about.

Have I lost you yet?

In a very messy way, I am trying to explain the lifestyle of a single. Thinking about themselves, for themselves. It’s all about you.

Personally, I love the lifestyle and I hate it at the very same time. i love it because I truly do not have anyone to answer to except myself (and my mother, of course). I hate it because I have no one to answer to period. No one is there when I get home to kiss me and pull me into a loving embrace. No one is there to rest my head on at night (well, unless you count the body pillow…I sometimes do). No one is there when I feel at my loneliest (is that a word?).

Just under a year ago, I was in a relationship that had all three of those things. Two years ago, I had the kind of embracing and loving that I needed. Five years ago I had it as well. Different people, different embraces, different feelings. But still one overall feeling of compassion and satisfaction. Until something went wrong…which led me back here. To the single lifestyle.

Life ceases to amaze me at the turns it takes me on. Which is why I am up at 1:30 in the morning writing a pathetically insightful post about single living or what it means in my life. In reality, it is just another failed attempt at putting my thoughts into words. Agh who even reads this anyway, right?

That’s my cue to sign off and try and pretend like I am sleeping…

the ramblings of the night owl.

I haven’t written here in a long time. Every time I revisit this diary of mine, I swear to myself that I will write more often, that I will post more…but really…it’s all a lie. Because this is my outlet – a place where I can vent, out my feelings…in total anonymity. This blog is my best friend in the sense that it knows all of my secrets. Between the lines of text are memories. Certain words trigger thoughts in my head that I don’t normally think of. It’s almost like it all comes out of the wood work whenever I tap into this at 1 AM.

How have I been? Should I do the typical “work’s great, school sucks” routine? Or should I dive into why I’m logged on at 1:13 AM on a Saturday night…one week before I move back to college.

The latter seems suitable, don’t you think?

I’m boring. Well, tonight I am. I have nothing to bitch and complain about because…nothing is happening. Other than me watching 50 Shades of Grey, American Pie and stuffing my face full of little Reese’s Pieces…nothing is going on. Guy wise? Zilch.

You think that I would be knee deep in a summer fling’s end right now (I look like that type, right? Well, you wouldn’t know…)? Nope. Not one boy. Not even close. Unless you count an old elementary friend messaging me for absolutely no reason at all. Why don’t we start there?

Pretty simple story line, actually. He messaged me after close to seven years of not saying a word to one another (even through high school), and asks me out. Fine. Except he doesn’t set a date, time or place…so I don’t count that as being asked out. He might as well of just asked me to come over, take my clothes off and not say a word (hint of 50 Shades coming through here…oops). So right off the bat…I wasn’t overly impressed or considered him as a contender.

Until we started talking literally every day. It was casual talk, nothing flirty really and nothing suggestive (as I carefully avoided). Only because I didn’t want to lead him on…because, really, he doesn’t have even a tiny shot at taking me out.

Note: my standards/expectations exist now.

I grew accustomed to receiving a text each day…but now it’s tweedled off (yes that’s a word). And good riddens’…but at the same time…I have no boys, prospects at all and I’m alone watching at fantasizing late at night to 50 Shades of Grey!

Maybe I should just go to bed now…

my desires.

Once you have had it, you need it. Every taste, every pleasure, every desire. When taken away, and left for a long time, time clicks by slowly and painfully. The wishful hope of some day, tasting those tastes again, feeling the touch of soft skin, feelings relishing your very soul. It’s like a drug that needs to be taken…and once you run out, you seek out more, desperately trying to fill the void left behind.

That is a desire.

Once combined with that of another kind of being – the beating, the fluttering, the feeling that longs for a different kind of void to be filled…things complicate. The two crash together causing a world of heart ache and chronic pain that continually lasts until the last piece is found to the puzzle. Until you can rest your head at night, knowing that all is well in your world.

It’s a shame that the two don’t go hand in hand. Fulfilling desires while ridding yourself of the emptiness in your soul. Finding that last puzzle piece. Knowing that everything will be okay.

it’s been a while, old friend.

Well, I have kind of abandoned this blog, haven’t I? Yes…I have. In fact, it has been so long, that the whole formatting has changed! Wow! Anyway, this is going to be an uber short post, and that is mainly because…there is nothing to tell. I am happy, I am single, and for once, I feel completely relaxed. I don’t have to worry about impressing anyone, because…I don’t have anyone to be impressed. The old me would be insanely weepy over this fact, but after just coming through a break up and finally getting over a guy I truly thought I was falling for, I am fine. I don’t want to ever go through it again. I have had way too many break ups in my short 21 year life, and I’m tired of it. So that is it. I am over messing with predictable, jerky, asshole-ish guys who don’t care at all about me.

In fact, I am holding out for the love of my life, who happens to live around the corner from me. He is my neighbour that I have known since I was 11. I have never spoken to him, but he is my type, his Mom loves and knows me and our dogs got married when I was 13. Connections. Unfortunately, when I was 13, he was 17 and could care less about a doggy wedding…

I am dead set on snagging his eye this summer, and while I am somewhat negative about how this will turn out…a tiny part of me is staying positive (thinking that I actually have a chance with this heavenly creature). Here is to a great summer and finding the love of my… oh who am I kidding. I will be as single in four months as I am sitting in my bed at 1 AM writing this reunion post. On the plus side, the sun is shining (not at this very moment, as it is night), and I get to wear all of my cute summer outfits again – with many new ones, I might add.

So maybe this wasn’t such a short post after all…doesn’t mean it wasn’t useless though – GOOD NIGHT…

vivid dreams.

You know when you have the most realistic dreams, and you wake up and curse because they are not real? I had one of those last night. I was in the most amazing dream land, with one of my old loves (or current, depends on how you look at it) and we were perfect together. There was no trouble, no drama, no issues and we were just in love. It was the fairytale ending and storybook lifestyle and we were the prince and princess – everything going so smoothly that it was magical.

Then…I woke up. You know what the best part was though? When I went back to sleep, I continued the dream – that’s how you know the dream is vivid and amazing – when it continues. However when my alarm went off the next morning, I felt disappointed and hopeful. Why can’t my life be like the life in the dream? Why can’t we be perfect?

All the details of that dream really showed me how it will never happen – we will never be together, we will never be the prince and princess and “us” will cease to exist. It’s never going to happen. Which makes me a little bit sad. Every time I see you on campus, I look away when I know that you are doing the same. At work, when I see you, I can feel your eyes burning into the back of my head, but I know in my heart that it doesn’t mean anything. Because you picked her. She is your woman crush wednesday, she is the love of your life, she is your everything…and here I am, you being my everything and nothing at the same time.

It really sucks. It really sucks. Our subconscious’ have figured it out…why can’t we?