Feeling alone

I guess the sucky part of having an official boyfriend is the expectations.

I was sick last night, and miserable, on the biggest party weekend of the year. He’d volunteered to stay in with me. I’d half-heartedly fought against it, and happily accepted.

But on his part, his shows were superficial. He invited to his place, implying that I walk there alone, when before he’d always come to pick me up at my dorm. He was kind of eager to suggest that I leave early to get rest. And when I told him I was feeling too crappy to come over, he accepted that way too fast.

Today? WH ask me how I was, and WH only. Not my boyfriend, not any of my friends.


I’m an idiot

WH just told me he likes me.

Literally straightened my love life out less than a week ago.

But more importantly, WH. I can’t believe what I put him through. I told him all my boy problems; I literally texted him a live stream of me trying to a let a guy down easily. I asked him for advice on how to let this guy down easily. I invited him to a concert, then invited JKm, and that’s how he found out that I had a thing with JKm. I left the group at the dance to be with JKm; I introduced JKm to WH; I made out with JKm within eyesight of WH.

I should have known. He was so quiet when I told him, so unlike nonchalant AM. He was quiet, and serious, and distant, and yet so personally let down.

I remember regretting that I’d told him; I remember feeling subtly pushed away by WH after. What did I tell AM? “I told WH my boy problems, and I think it changed his opinion of me for the worse.”

I remember feeling like he was distant. Not happy to see me anymore. I remember panicking – WH was quite possibly my favorite person here; my closest friend. I’d put so much energy into the relationship; what if he was tired of me?

And then, today: things were suddenly better. We energized each other again. What changedI? I asked. That fateful question. The answer was so different from what I expected.

Was it different from what I wanted?

I don’t know. WH. Feelings for WH? I think I did. I remember meeting him and thinking to myself that I would never date him. But his personality, and his laugh, and his kindness. And everything was so easy, so natural with him. WH. And eventually I told myself I would never date him for another reason – I don’t want to lose him.

I’m with JKm now. I would be an idiot to throw that away. I would be an idiot to further complicate my life. I would be selfish to get WH wrapped up in this.

He asked for space. I can give him space. But already, it’s affecting me. My friend. He’s my friend. I can give a friend space.

The Horror That Comes When You Read Your Old Posts

My goodness. I actually hate my old self.

2011 me? Spoiled, sheltered, petty little freshman girl with no confidence and no empathy. She’s self-centered, and not even in a reflective sort of way – she’s wrapped up in the coming and goings of her mundane, boring everyday life. Like, what I ate for breakfast, and the exact happenings in my speech and debate class were of utmost importance. Mortified.

2012 me is marginally better, but really not by much. I was still a largely awful person.

2013, junior year, I make a leap. My grammar improves; I start capitalizing my I’s. I have friends. I start trusting people. I start caring about others (well, somewhat). My posts deal more with larger trends in my daily life than a post literally on each day (thank god that ended). What caused that?

I guess Interlochen, but more specifically, meeting friends and feeling like I belonged for the first time. Seeing people be comfortable in their own skin, and kind to other people despite their ‘weirdness’.

I guess also my grandfather dying. I think I had to feel more than I ever did before.

Senior year, 2014. Wrapped up with boys now, and reflective posts, I think, most of them really not about my daily life at all. I like myself here more- though flawed, at least I know it.

Ambiguous Milestones

A first boyfriend. That’s a milestone, right?

But it’s funny, because although JKm is sort of my first boyfriend, I’m not sure.

And now that I think about it, it’s not even entirely because of AYl. Yes, AYl was my first kiss, and the first relationship I had that I defined as a ‘thing’.

But before the ‘thing’, my love life was defined by a series pseudo-relationships – deep connections minus the physical. Butterflies without contact. Before AYl was WB, and before WB was KD, and before KD was WB again. We texted, we hung out, we told each other everything. And when we had our pseudo-breakup, it hurt just as much.

By AYl, I was already emotionally mature when it came to relationships.

So my first boyfriend? It doesn’t feel like my first time.

Jeans – dream

Another weird ass dream. All in the same night, too.

I wore my Delia jeggings the for the first time in a while yesterday, discovering that I actually liked them. And I dreamed last night that I took scissors to them and cut them up, then sat in a frustrated panic, wondering why I’d done that.

Subconscious meditations on self-sabotage?