erm, ignore me, please.

So, um, yeah. Crisis averted and the boy wrote back explaining why he hadn't written back (out partying for a birthday, phone died, woke up late, missed shuttle/work, etc) and reiterating that he'd like to go out again. So we have a date tomorrow for knishes and drinks. I'm officially the world's biggest jackass/neurotic and I need to chill the fuck out. Someone please kill me and end this misery that is living inside of my head. I'm not going to take back all of what I said last post, but I do feel like a colossal tool in a lot of ways. I know that I have to be patient and all, but after 25 years of being patient (almost 26!) --- I just can't do it all the time. Sometimes I panic and that panic is why I wish I was asexual or that I could opt out of the dating game altogether.

I told one of my friends that I believe that some people just aren't meant to be loved and that I think I'm one of them. Maybe it's not that I'm not meant to be loved, but that I'm not meant to be loved by anyone that I want to love me. Men are usually intrigued by me in some may. I know how to capture male attention (both romantic and platonic). I grew up with boys, have a sense of how they operate, and I know how to be appealing to them on a variety of levels. I'm not thin, I'm not even particularly attractive, but I have really big boobs and give off a slightly slutty vibe know how to have fun, how to be interesting, how to carry on a conversation, and how to make people laugh. That has always served me well with getting boys to flirt with me, kiss me, sleep with me. Yet, I still don't have the love that I crave. The only man who's ever loved me (that I know of, at least) is a man that I was pretty much indifferent to. When I like a guy a lot, it is always bound to end poorly for me.

Which brings me back to my point - maybe I'm just not meant to be loved. I think I have a pretty realistic picture of the person I was and the person I've become. Good things don't always happen to everyone and I think I'm starting to become comfortable with the fact that this whole love thing will always be a struggle for me. There's one thing my best friend said to me recently that struck a chord. She said, "I hate when people tell me that someday I'll meet some guy who is going to love me for who I am. Because the reality is that I might not get that. That is a very real possibility. And it won't necessarily be because I don't want it badly enough. It could be because it just doesn't happen. I need to live with the reality of that." I'm slowly coming around to her reality and trying not to view it as a negative, but as a simple part of life.

I mean, all in all, I've had a good run of things (spoken as though I'm going to die tomorrow, lol) and I lead a pretty awesome life considering how things started off for me. Black bastard children don't often get breaks out here in America. I'm lucky to have been adopted by two amazingly wonderful human beings who provided me with a wonderful education, allowing me to get a damn good job, a kick-ass apartment that I don't have to share, and amazing friendships that sustain me. It's not too hard to find contentment within that.