A careful, restless whimper disturbs the cicadas of my city.
I do not like being told I’m beautiful. No, actually scratch that. I don’t like being told I’m beautiful when my vision is swinging and my heart screams obscenities between sobs.
Yes, of course I got drunk last night, my God it was awful. Awfully destructive and endlessly joyful.
Jack Honey and Limoncello with a strong whiff of Smirnoff and Findlandia. The more expensive the vodka is the more I love to down it like a madwoman. Apparently I swing down my drink like Shepard or Hawke’s leaning-over-the-bar-and-tilting-head-back-to-drink animation, which is hilarious in my opinion. My sleeve still smells like Jack Honey and I remember breaking a whiskey glass in the bus stop.
But back to being told I’m pretty I’m worth it I’m enough I’m beautiful I’m hot I’m sexy I’m boys’ wet dream – It’s all old news.
Not to be incredibly selfish – which I am, in a sense – but I am aware that I’m a sweet, loving person who also doesn’t look half bad if effort is present. But does that get me what I want? No.
I – so far, and I’m fully sure it’s just so far – never got what I needed or wanted when it came to “dating” and just relationships in general. The only “experience” I can conlude is my own drunken ass getting myself into a “relationship” with someone I genuienly found dull after I realized we have nothing in common besides making out.
Dating also gives me some heavily alienating vibes – I’ve been on sooo many and so far my experience is not great with them. I would love to go on a date with someone I know that we can have a great time – so basically I’m either friends with someone I date and we end up nice or nuffin’. Awful situation ain’t it?
Physicalness is also one part of a relationship. Which I still crave – my God it get’s to me pretty bad sometimes. But it’s not everything? It’s like in that scene in the Swan Princess, when she meets the prince and he’s immediately blurting out the magical “let’s get married” and she is terrified to ask why, and all his answer is that “beacuse you’re beautiful”.
Being. Beautiful. Means. Fucking. Jackshit.
Honestly, nights like these it can only be a girl’s biggest disadvantage. Being Beautiful can get you killed.
So, the night was going astoundingly – not – we got too invested in pregaming, and my friend, (let’s call her S) is the type of girl I do not look down on, but I can pretty safely say I am different. She’s little sense of caution and self preservation, while I am vary with men that approach me just because I’m Beautiful.
And S was wasted and hence my everpresent paranoia, I shifted into Protection Mode, which means I know what it is like to be wasted out of your mind and left alone with your uncontrolled limbs and desire to be devoured by the night. But S was having none of it and I started to loose it as well – a Zombie, two Orgasms and two Vodka-Bomba shots do that to you.
And she was chatting up anyone, and I stomped my foot down – total party pooper – but I did not let those guys charm me or S or take us away while our other friend had hard time in the bathroom. My other friend is a college student in a different town and she keeps saying she “parties very hard in the dorms” but got absolutely wrecked by one stronger cocktail.
So S came at me like I shat in her cereal, that I’m no fun that I should go for what I want. That I should… take control of my life and show to people I’m interested in that hey, this girl is available !!! time to go!!!!.
No no no no. Nobody likes assertive girls. Nobody likes when a girl asks a guy out, no, that’s desperate, she’s obsessive, she’s a loose cannon she’s crazy she’s –
Shes not Beautiful. Because her Beauty does not get her noticed.
I don’t know, maybe I’m just too used to being bi myself (
i am so not sorry for that pun but i dont want this post to imply that im wallowing in self pity tbh i am just tired and a little angry that i didnt get my promised dancing last night). But life had given me the lesson that going after what I want is not what I should do – look where it got me last December.
My heart is so fragile, oh God it eats me alive but also sets fire to me so easily. I do not have too high standards to find a sweet lead my honey-drunk broken heart can follow. All i want is … affection. Someone to say that they actually have feelings for me.
So S and I got into an arguement, the forever dreaded lines came from her mouth as it was due. She lectured me how I am maybe not doing enough things to get myself out there, that I shouldn’t be so negative, that I’m pretty I’m worth it I’m enough I’m beautiful I’m hot I’m sexy I’m boys’ wet dream – that if I take the first step I can get noticed by the person I want and lads and ladies I went from zero to hundred in a minute.
I don’t fucking care about how other people do it.
I am not other people – which doesn not imply I’m not like other girls because I am so basic this post is making me sound maaaaaybe a little to pretentious – so my life and my decidisions are my own.
And I am unlearning all my obsessive behaviours and what I am trying to experience is absolutely having no expectations from any person or any “might be a thing” relationship leads.
If they want me they will come to me, but I am for one, Beautiful and Beautifully Single, ready to mingle the HECK out of someone’s brains.
Another thing, I deleted the December story.