I am 28 years old and single. Most of the time I feel I will never meet anyone. I have gone on dates with nice and good looking men. But, I always find something wrong with them: he walks strange, his job is not good enough, he chews with his mouth open, he wears too much cologne, he has a high pitched voice, he is too nice, he is not chill enough, lives with his parents, he is not as educated as me, he is shorter than me, he is not funny. So is it my fault? Probably. Am I scared? Maybe. Am I the only one? Who knows.
I am a neurotic, emotional, and anxious neat freak who judges people as I judge my own self.
When I was nine years old, I was molested by my male cousin (who was sixteen at the time). I recently told my best friend about it, but all she told me was “get over it”. How could I get over something that still haunts me to this day? Being molested isn’t a good thing and cannot be forgotten.
I just discovered the identity of my ex’s new girlfriend; and I am wondering, what does she have that I do not possess? The pain is indescribable. I thought I had gotten over it, but apparently not. My heart is shattered all over again, and all I want to do is curl up and cry. But I gotta live and move on, because there are other people who need me in their lives; and who I mean the whole world to. And I know that one day, I will be happy once again.
But right now, I need to have a good cry.
Everything is pointing me towards the fact that God simply does not exist. But I’m scared to accept that.
I’m a drug addict. I use for fun. The fun causes me trouble. The trouble causes me stress. I use to alleviate stress. The using causes me trouble, and so on. I can’t stop.
I want help, but don’t want help.
I need help.
I hate everything I do; it was all to get into college. Now that I’m accepted into the college of my choice, I do not know what to do or where to start.
My brother had aplastic anemia as a child. As an adult his blood cell counts were never normal, his drug use was how he managed his physical and emotional pain. Two years ago he died. I feel horrible, but it was such a relief when he passed away.
A few years ago, I went stargazing with some friends and two boys who were roommates. We all stretched out in a field and I lay between the two boys holding their hands. Shivering, we talked about everything and nothing, ghosts and fireflies and the moon falling to earth, and our ideas were sweeping and drunken and lovely. We talked as if it we were saying our last words to the people around us. By the end of the night I was half in love with both boys, even though I hardly knew them.
I ended up dating one and becoming close friends with the other. I fell in love for the first time; it was a heady, exhilarating rush, like being in the center of a storm. But occasionally I would wonder if I had made the wrong choice, and would really be better off with his roommate, my friend. Sometimes it felt like I WAS dating him, the three of us completed each other so perfectly. When the romance cooled after about a year, my boyfriend and I broke up. His friend helped me through it. I realized I might like him, probably always had.
A few weeks ago, he and I were hanging out, and we ended up stargazing again, just the two of us this time. We found shapes in the clouds, and made wishes on fireflies. I couldn’t help but feel that everything had possibly maybe finally come full circle. We stayed out ’til the sun rose, and ended up sleeping together as the last of the stars burned away. It was lovely, wonderful, confusing.
I just got this text from him: “No more hooking up, keep it just friends?”
I really wish I could write a different ending to this than that.
I have really strong Christian beliefs, but I’ve finally ‘fessed up to liking both men and women. And I can’t do anything about it. I can’t go I’ve decided not to go after what my flesh wants. Ugh, it’s complicated. ‘Tis life.
I’m in love with this man, male, boy, whatever you’d like to call it. I’m in love. And it’s funny because I used to think love was so pathetic, I used to think crying over somebody who didn’t notice you the way you noticed them was pathetic, I used to think the ache in your heart when you fall so deep in love was pathetic. Everything that came with love was pathetic. And even sometimes I look at myself and think of how pathetic I am for falling in love with somebody and for crying over him and having this false hope that he and I will be together again.
We dated before. It lasted three weeks and I ended the relationship because it didn’t feel right. I guess I wasn’t ready. I wanted to do things for myself, I didn’t want to be so dependent on this person. And now I regret it. I regret ever saying “I don’t love you anymore” and “I don’t want to be in this relationship.” And sometimes I think about how happy I would be if I’d just told him the truth—that I wasn’t ready then.
But I’m ready now. I know I am. I think after some time, we agreed to be friends. But secretly he knows I love him. And he’s hurt by it because he used to love me too. And I know he’s confused, and I’m confused too, so I don’t blame him if he never wants to love me again. But thinking about it sometimes, and knowing that I’ll never have his heart, never be held in his arms, never kiss him, never be close to him, hurts. Yeah, it hurts.
I’m happy right now. And I’m happy he and I have decided to be friends again. But it’s difficult to keep my emotions trapped. I wish I could be brave and tell him that, no matter what, I think I’ll always love him. I’ve never felt such a connection with a person before. And maybe that sounds cliche, and stupid, and I know that someday I’ll meet another man who I’ll be able to connect with, a man I’ll love more, but I’m not ready for that right now.
I’m ready for his love. Not some unknown future love.
But I guess this is life and sometimes things don’t work out. So all I have to do is keep breathing. Stay alive.
I’ll be ready for someone new someday.