Butterflies and Maggots

Oh what I wouldn't do to avoid emotions. I have never been emotionally attached to anyone. Even my parents say I was a distant child, loving to cuddle and have my own back rubbed, but never succumbing to the hugs and kisses that followed. Strangely willing to give back rubs to other people, but never wanting any affection afterward. Doing tasks merely for the satisfaction of someone else's satisfaction. These traits have inevitably followed me to my teenage years and will undoubtedly follow me into my twenties and thirties and fourties and so on. Emotions are the evil spawn of the butterflies that fill your stomach when you are "happy". They infest your intestines with little maggots of feelings that burrow deep inside you, waiting until the most inopportune time to chew through your organs and hurt you in ways no one can understand until you're doubled over in pain with tears running down your cheeks. The pain that fills your body is a pain that no aspirin can alleviate. Doctors might have fancy terminology for it but the common slang term is a "broken heart". The worst thing that could happen to you should you let anyone get too close for too long.

Usually I fear these moments, the close ones, where the risk of attachment becomes all too real. Recently I discovered that I am a hypocrit. I am living that way right now. I have unknowingly, and yet completely knowingly, opened myself up to a man who could potentially treat me the right way. I live in fear of this man and my instincts still tell me to shun him, or at least his feelings, from my heart, as I have. But lately, I have discovered a secret about myself that I never knew. My heart has a backdoor, one without a lock, that likes to swing open every once in a while to to a strong breeze, probably from the flapping of wings of those damn butterflies. Somehow this man is sneaking his way into my heart and it is messing with my mind.

A man has never stepped foot inside my heart before so the feeling is confusing. My mind is telling me that I am only "attached" to him but my heart is pounding from his footsteps and it's saying "no, you're falling in love". Which is scarier to imagine, I can't decide. Attachment leads to a messy break-up at some point in the future, one that could potentially ruin quite a few friendships. But falling in love requires sacrificing my whole self. Part of me asks "well, if you are really in love than it's not really a 'sacrifice' and even if it was, if you were really in love, you wouldn't care about the sacrifice so long as you are together." That part of me would be correct. It is in the admitting stage where I get stuck. What do I believe? What do I admit? What do I feel? Why am I so confused? Why am I lying to myself?

Today, proof surfaced. I was having an argument with said man and towards the end I found myself telling him that I would change myself for him, despite previous promises to myself to never change anything about myself for a man. I caught myself as I was tellling him this and yet proceeded to say it. I began to have an epiphany. If I am willing to change for a man, does that mean I have found the one worth this "sacrifice" of love? I wasn't sure. Not too much later in our conversation, this man scolded me and told me never to change for him or anyone. Who I am is who people want to see, not his creation of me. That is when I knew. Someone who would want that for me, to be honest and truthful to myself before anyone else, was perfect for me.

This is when I am supposed to get all sappy and write about how much I love this man and how I would do anything for him. Well, I'm not. My instincts have regained control of my brain and my heart. However, the two have agreed to collaborate and mull over the new information that has been produced. Updates to follow.

I will admit one thing: I have never felt anything like this feeling in my life. This man is special. Really special.

Future Thoughts

I've started thinking about my future. What do I want? I have two different plans for myself and I don't know what to choose. Luckily I don't have to yet, but it's something I will have to choose later on. I have my selfish plan, the plan that will lead me to everything I ultimately want. The other plan is with someone, making a family in the perfect little family world. Is there a way to have both and still provide the stability a family needs but still be the spontaneous person I have always dreamt of being? I want nothing more than to follow the dream I've had for the past years but I can't bring myself to admit that I can die without having kids of my own and being okay with it. I want that- kids, house, the whole shebang. I'm stuck on how to decide. I guess I should focus on the man who would provide me with the children first. That's important. I can postpone this decision at least until I figure that out.

L*** is...

"I wanted so badly to lie down next to him on the couch, wrap my arms around him, and sleep together. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage. I was gawky and he was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and he was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on my bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and he was hurricane."

This is a quote that I was led to by StumbleUpon.com and it made me think. It was originally written about a girl, but for obvious gender reasons, I switched all of the pronouns around to fit my own situations. I actually took out a few parts as well, parts about sex and fucking to make it more appealing to my own eyes. It was a personal choice. This is a final product. My transformation if you will.

When I read it, it made me think. There are so many reasons for people to fall for one another, but no one ever has the guts to say something about it. I mean, everyone has attractions and you can't help who you fall for. It's just natural. When I try to think about why I fell for my boyfriend, I can't come up with a real, tangible answer. I have yet to be asked the question "why did you choose me?" but I know it will inevitably some at some point. While the answer technically doesn't matter, because the point is that I am there at all, I would still like to have an answer. Answers are always better than technicalities. I would also like to be able to ask the question back, but if I don't answer then it's not fair for him to.

This quote made me think about all of that. How did I fall for him? He was always so suave and funny. Or maybe it was his horrible attempt to be suave that made him so funny. Either way he made me laugh. At the same time, even if he tried too hard, or if he even tried at all, I felt myself melt because I knew that he really was trying. I love hearing him laugh and seeing him smile; even now when I talk to him, everything I say is in a effort to make him crack a smile or give me a soft chuckle. I don't know if he knows how much I try. That's also how I knew I was falling for him: I've never felt a need to try before. Guys were never a problem for me and I didn't care what they thought, even if we started dating. With him, I can't help but wonder what he thinks of every move I make. I still try to impress him with everything from the way I dress to the way I smell to the way I talk. I don't want him to get bored and I don't want to be boring. More than anything I love the way he looks at me when he smiles. That soft look in his eyes and a slight grin on his face. I always wonder what he's thinking but I've yet to gather up the courage to ask.

Then there are the standard things that everyone says when they are asked the question. He's smart, he's athletic, he's strong, he's approachable, he's friendly. But he's so much more than that. He has a group of friends that would do anything for him and they've been friends forever. They remain friends no matter what one of them is doing or going through. He is visually attractive, but not in the typical "tall, dark,a nd handsome" way. He is tall and he is dark and he is handsome, but it's different for him. He's got Italian features and amazingly soft lips. I look at his eyes and fall into them. I forget about everything else. And his arms... oh I'm a sucker for arms, but his...

I love that when we kiss, I have to stand on my tip-toes and he has to bring his face down to mine. I love that he is strong enough to carry me but gentle enough to brush my hair out of my eyes. I love that he still believes in chivalry but he doesn't treat me differently because I'm a girl. I love that he doesn't mind hanging out with me with his friends. I love that he doesn't hang all over me in public but he still gives light kisses when they are warrented. I love that we always happen to coincidentally think the same things. I love that we always text each other at the same time to start conversations. I love that we love the same things and hate the same things. I love that we don't judge each other. I love that when it comes down to it, we would both do anything for each other, even if we didn't want to.

As the days pass, I realize more and more that I am really falling for this boy. I had a major hit the other day when I realized that I was jealous. Not of a girl that he was talking to or of his relationship with a friend. But because I know that other girls have had his heart before I have. I'm jealous that I couldn't have him first. I count all the times that he says he has had a "first" with me because I know that I will never, in any aspect be any of his major "firsts". I will always and forever be "the girl after the girl who broke my heart". Hopefully, I can be the girl who fixed his broken heart. I've never been so hurt by words he says that are supposed to make me feel so good, but don't because I know that he's spoken them to another girl before me. It's not the same, but he can never know. It's something I just have to get over. Being with him now is enough. I just have to find a way to top the rest of them. That will be my hardest task of all.

This boy, I love so much about him, more than he knows. I might even love him, as a whole. That sounds funny, but I can't find a way to describe it in words. Love itself is such a strange word. It has so much meaning and I refuse to take it lightly. That's why when it's said, I feel nothing but the weight of it. I don't want to feel the weight. I want to feel the meaning. When he says he loves me and I feel the meaning? That's when I'll know that I'm in love.

Happy Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is closing in on us. What a Hallmark induced holiday. It's nothing more than a bunch of money-hungry old men looking to make a buck. I suppose I ought to be more cheerful because I actually have a reason to celebrate it this year, but I can't get my mind off the fact that it's not real. Saint Valentine was a person who achieved his "Saint" status from good, commendable deeds, not overpriced chocolates and teddy bears. I don't want to be sucked in to the media's awful atrophy of this holiday. The idea that gifts must be given seems like a waste to me, but I know that I will be forced into purchasing one, not from desire but from a social obligation.

So the problem now becomes, not the destruction of a once respectable holiday, but finding the right gift. What does one get a guy on Valentine's Day? For the most part, optically anyway, Valentine's Day is a holiday for women. You buy them chocolates or flowers or balloons or jewelry. What guy would actually appreciate a gift like that without sacrificing his manhood in the process? Even gifts that are meant for men are actually for women. For example, buying a man sexy women's lingerie implies that you are buying him a "good time" (wink wink) but you don't honestly expect him to wear it. You expect him to give it to his female counterpart. So what does the guy get?

Dinner sounds like a good plan, but it's a problem when your guy is set on chivalry. Yeah it's great and we complain about the lack of it in our men today, but it kind of ruins our plans to pay for a romantic dinner. If your guy lets you grab the tab then congratulations. But my guy will wrestle me for the bill any day so that idea crosses itself off the list. Where does that leave me? I'm stuck in a hole with no present and a highly overblown present-giving holiday. Wonderful. That's when I get creative.

I decided that if my presents can't be genuine, then I'll make them funny. I will make them so corny that he won't be able to help but laugh. I'll purchase the most stereotypical Valentine's Day presents and add the sappiest Valentine's Day wishes and wrap them in obnoxiously bright Valentine's Day wrapping. I will be so cute that he will want to puke and even then, the very chunks of his vomit will be glittery and pink and in the shape of hearts. Maybe then he will realize that I don't enjoy Valentine's Day. Maybe then, he will take me seriously when I say that I don't want to exchange gifts. Maybe then, we'll get a real idea of love.

Enjoy your holiday... <3

Look Out World...

So it's been a while since I posted, but I have a few excuses. For one school started up again...
Actually, that's the only reason I have and it's really bad. I could say sorority stuff is overwhelming me but I signed up for it so I can't complain about a self-induced issue. Although if you can't complain about that, then what do you ever complain about?
My other semi-excuse could be my new-found addiction to StumbleUpon.com. That thing is a failure waiting to happen. My grades may or may not feel the impact of this addiction. Perhaps I ought to enter myself in a clinic for the internetually insane. Give the world a few years and I'm sure those will be real things. If I were smart I would copyright that term now; I could be a rich woman someday. That is assuming the world doesn't end next December. All I have to say about that is that it had better not otherwise I have spent my entire life in school. NOT. COOL.

So lately, I have been having crazy feelings. I refuse to call them emotions yet because admitting that will lead to bad things for me. I stick to the term feelings because it covers a whole range of... well, feelings, from literal to mental. I find that I have times where I want nothing more than to cry, but I hold in because I am not a crier. Crying is a major sign of weakness in my opinion and if I were to break my own rule... I can't even begin to explain the crazy things that would occur inside my brain. To give an idea, I guess I would compare it to something like a tire exploding off of a car in motion, sending the vehicle spiriling out of control and into a ditch where it self-combusts and creates a huge explosion of firey chaos. Somehow the driver, in this situation, me, emerges from the flame engulfed car virtually unscathed only to later show signs of post traumatic stress which leads to reactions similar to that of tourrettes.
So, that being said, I do not cry. The other half of the time I just feel angry. Or maybe angry isn't the right term. I'm too proud to admit to jealousy, but I suppose secretly that could be what it is. I just don't understand how men's minds work. Without considering my math, the third half of the time, I am happy. I love being with him, and he makes me feel like no one else ever has. But the fact that I feel sad/angry/jealous and I know it's because of him, it dulls the happiness. I want nothing more than to feel the genuine happiness I felt at the beginning of the relationship. That seems lame, because we've only been together for a little over a month, but counting the "friendship" we had before makes it so much longer. In that time I allowed myself to open up and get unintentionally attached. Sometimes, it seems like it was so much easier then. I was happy and yet still independent. I want to go back to that time without losing the  relationship status. I've never been confronted with something so mentally hard to handle.
i just wish I had someone to tell me how to go about doing everything. A leader of some sort. I've always been my own leader and I normally would have it no other way, but this situation puts me in a position that leaves me no other option but to ask. I don't know who to ask and I don't know how to ask, which I guess is no more helpful than knowing how to say something to him. This must be one of life's lessons. "Learn to take care of yourself, in a different way." Time to man up and just do it. Retain my own morals and be independent again. If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself. Old mottos- it's time to bring them back into play.
Look out world.
I'm back.