A long and continual exercise in self reflection...God help you all...
So, I figure, I'm feeling awfully sentimental as of late and I hate it. Or maybe sentimental isn't the right word...nostalgic isn't right either. Lonely makes me sound pathetic, which I am not and will not be. Therefore, I guess right now I am going with reflective.
It's an on going to be an ongoing exercise I think. And I'm leaving this entry unlocked because I just don't care. For shits and giggles I may post a link on facebook. Not that anyone would read it.
Attempt One:
I see all the guys I have dated and figure that dating them was not really a waste. I guess in their own individual ways, they have made me grow and realize what I do and do not want. I don't hate them. I don't really care too much for them either. But hate is such a strong word so I'm going with distant.
I suppose I shouldn't list their names, no need to embarass I suppose. I'm not a total bitch.
Guy #1: I learned what it was like to be a rebound. I also learned that I prefer men that are either my age or older. I also appreciate men with ambition.
Guy #2: I learned that dating should include some form of adventure and compromise. Staying at your parents house all the time and watching tv is not my idea of bonding. I also learned that dumping someone is never easy, but it when the going gets tough it has to be done.
Guy #3: I do not need a man to "take care of me." Hoping a guy will "rescue me" is horribly unfulfilling. Not to mention 99.9% of the time it ends in disappointment. Not only that, but I'm not ready to settle. I want to travel, try new things and live.
So thank you for teaching me what I want and do not want. Maybe I'll find some common ground after dating three more people, maybe not. Whatever.
Another red flag that I should have noticed a long time ago: When you are dating someone and after about 2 hours together you want them to go away is typically not a good sign. I do this contantly. I whine like a bitch about wanting to date someone, to find "Mr. Right" and when I date someone, I get bored rather quickly and want them to go away. Too much to do, not enough time, and I need time for me.
"Me time" is not what you perverts are thinking. I enjoy solitude, though I'm not exactly a hermit. I enjoy going out like the next person. My perfect "me time" activity is either reading a good book/piece of fanfiction or zoning out while listening to music. Most of the time its the latter. All through the day I have to constantly think, constantly do, constantly work, and move, and worry, and live, that I like the time when I can just sit and not think and listen to music. Sometimes I put on my windows picture show and I make up stories in my head while I listen to music and watch the picture go in and out. I think the longest I have done this consecuatively was for about 2 hours. Then reality hits: I have work to do, people to deal with, and more things to think and worry about.
I worry about being alone all the time. Not about the actual being alone, but what people think about it. Yes I'm shallow and worry about what people think. Though I will give myself a pat on the back and a cookie to admit that I don't care as much as I used to. Or at least I act like I don't care. Those outward appearances are important I suppose. I think about maybe another five years down the road when high school reunions come around (10 years: five of which were in the "real world" called college, the other five or so were "transitions" into the "real real world"). Will I go? Right now I'm am feeling sarcastic and a bit wicked. I know I just thought, yeah right, like I would go back there, high school sucked, though not as bas a middle school. But I know a large part of me wants to go back there and prove that I have made something of myself. It might not be alot. I might not be in a high paying job, married, 2.5 kids and a dog with the pretty white picket fence, but what I have would be mine and I earned it on my own: no hand outs, no free rides, no sympathy.
I asked my mother once when I was having a really bad month (understatement really, more like year), "All I want is for you to feel sorry for me for one minute. All I want to hear you say is that everything will be okay." They say no. They love me very much, I know that, but this is reality. Life can suck. You can have bad days, months, years. Get over it; move on. I get pissed periodically about this attitude that my parents have. But, in all actuality, I'm pretty grateful. They don't hold my hand figuratively. I am proud that I can support myself. I have two part time jobs, I am working on my masters part time, I am involved in school activities, I pay my bills, my rent, and I find time to go for 3 mile long jogs. I feel pretty damn accomplished. The only thing my parents help me out with is car insurance, which, in about 2 ish years, I will be booted off of and get my own. My parents are looking foward to being 100% financially free from their children.
Excerice one: complete
Stay tuned.