tumblinas.

The things we do to ourselves.

I’ve never been in a serious relationship, I’ve never actually been interested enough/cared enough to get involved with any man I’ve ever dated. I’ve been fine with that, even when bitchier, clingier, stupider girls around me always had some male arm to hang on to.

On Valentines Day (oh, the sick irony) I met a guy (lets call him Q) in my college while I was chatting with a mutual friend. We sat around and bitched about relationships and crap  and why being single rocks, and later on, he tells me he’s seen me around before and during our prom and thought I was “gorgeous”. The truth was I’d seen Q around before too, and thought he was dead sexy. We got along well enough. Over the next few days I saw him around and talked to him, and was seriously attracted to him.

So despite him complaining about the lack of freedom in relationships during V-day, a matter of days later after we first met, he gets himself a girlfriend. Yeah, I know, like WTF right? When I make a jibe at him about what he said and the fact he’s attached now, he tells me they were good friends, and it just kinda happened. I understood, but I was bitter and pissed at fate/destiny whatever the hell you want to call it. You give me a man that I finally, finally think I could be with, and you don’t even give me a chance to make my move, to know him. Just days, a matter of days; what was I supposed to do?

That was all about 3 weeks ago. And I find myself meeting him in the hallways, bumping into him and his with her eyes too far apart  somewhat attractive  girlfriend and feeling bitter as hell.  Q and I talk sometimes, we chat online  occasionally and till today he still tells me he thinks I’m beautiful. Inside there’s still a part of me that thinks this can still happen, they might break up, it might still happen, maybe if I want it enough it’ll happen, while he’s sitting around trying to plan a suprise birthday part for his girlfriend of 3 weeks even though her birthday is 4 months away.

I barely know this man, all I can say is that he is very attractive physically, popular, wealthy and known for his bad boy image. That’s probably what hooked me in the first place, and my friends think that I buy into the whole chain-smoking-hardcore-clubber/drinker-gangster dangerous image that all the girls fawn over, but the truth is I’ve always liked my men a little bent because well, I honestly need someone to keep up with me. It’s just that no one knows that.

I only have bad days now, because no matter how dolled up I get, no matter how many compliments I get, no matter how much I get hit on, I see Q or his  gf and I just feel low, stupid and ugly even though I have no reason to.

While my friends think I’m pining for him, I know that this is more about me than it was ever about him. I always thought that when I found someone I liked, everything would be ok. Turns out its not the case. I’m not in love with this man, it was a short lived crush at best, but its turning out into such a downer.

So now I sit here and admit, after 19 years of singledom, I actually would like some male companionship. I haven’t been on a date in ages, but I’m tired of mindgames and fake innuendos and pretending and secrets. I seek out men who are not so straight laced because in my mind I hope they will take my secrets and the things I’ve done, the truth about me and my own vices, a little better if they had somewhat similiar afflictions. I appreciate well articulated men with some passion/ambition/direction in life and maturity, so I’ve never dated anyone below the age of 23, regardless of how old I was.

I find myself wondering why I can’t be satisfied with regular college boys around me who make lame sex jokes and love football; but I know its pointless because they could never accept me for what I am. Everyone has expectations of what I’m like the moment the lay eyes on me. Women see a confident, intellectual strong-willed extroverted female with long legs. Men see an attractive, confident, intellectual, personable, social, strong willed woman with long legs, nothing beyond that. I don’t feel the need to bend to people’s expectations, but I’ve learnt to keep my secrets about what I’m really like or what I think in a collegiate situation (for my own wellbeing). What men first expect of me always ends up in disappointment/disillusion for them. That’s why I don’t even date men I haven’t gotten to know at least a while.

So now I come home every night in a drab mood, disillusioned and down about the one I finally liked, the one that got away, even though he’s barely proven to be what I myself project what I want him to be. And it’s hard for me to think “Oh there’ll be others” when there has never been anyone. Does this make sense?

Maybe university will be different, I tell myself, but that’s at least 2 years away. And even if I do find someone I connect with, what’s the difference? The same thing happens and I’m the ditch again?

And even if I do go out with the guys who ask me out now, even though I’m not interested, just to convince myself I might be, that he could be the one for me, is that even worth it? 

I’m tired of wondering why I had to be the one to expect more, why I had to grow up so fast. Why I couldn’t just have been satisfied with the frivolity of high school dating, why I had to pour myself into drama, and debate and my own thoughts while other girls smiled fakely and stole each others boyfriends. I’m sick of thinking why now, when all the college kids around me are having sleepovers after getting piss drunk, playing football at the opposite field by the YMCA, hitting the clubs all night and dating every other new person, celebrating anniversaries and birthdays with boyfriends and girlfriends, I’m sitting there with my headphones plugged in, craving to go back to the sea, to go diving again, to see my volunteer friends again, having nightmares about global warming and writing pointless romantic prose.

I’m definitely tired of being stuck in this rut. I haven’t been this down, in like, ever. I love myself just the way I am but the truth is, yes, the independant drama-hating conformist-bashing almighty Lali is admitting that she thinks having a nice guy around right now wouldn’t hurt.

And I know hating myself isn’t going to help, so I’m done with that crap. I know some amazing and beautiful people that I will spend time with because they’re worth it.

And I know(with a sense of despair) that this kind of thing only comes to you when you’re not really looking , or is that not true?

Oh, and if you read my own Tumblr, you will not find a trace of any of this, because people in my life read it and think I’m indifferent and unemotional, but mostly terribly terrible practical.

I’m sorry if I’m just babbling my beautiful Tumblinas, because you all always manage to give me such joy, but I’m wondering if anyone can identify with me and my oddness or whatever. Tell me, do you see me like you? Does it ever get easier? Is anyone else afraid they’ll be alone forever?

Thanks for reading, either way.