Paranoid

Something recently occurred to me.

I've been single for, aside from a two-week blip with an almost boyfriend, my entire life.

This, in my head, is mostly because, well, guys don't tend to seem interested in me. They just don't.

This has its perks. I am very rarely the victim of sexual harassment. Painters and construction workers don't yell things at me and I don't usually have to deal with a guy getting handsy at a club... I do sometimes, obviously, because I'm a girl and guys at clubs are creeps, but, still, it's not the regular affair that my friends evidently struggle with.

But...

What if I just don't notice when guys are interested in me?

I was thinking about that aforementioned two-week blip a little while ago... and I remembered that I figured out I was on a date when he reached over and took my hand. Oh. Right. This isn't platonic, is it? 

A year and a bit later, with a few obvious fumbles in between that included a nearly friendship-destroying awkward encounter with one of my best friends, I was at a party and I was talking with a guy. We'd go and talk to other people, yeah, but we'd always come back to each other and we sat on the floor just idly chatting and laughing... I didn't keep track of the time but it must've been about three quarters of an hour that we chatted. When I left with my friend, who is so much more in tune with social nuances than I am, she said, "So you weren't interested in that guy, then? He was into you." Oh.

I remember when my best guy friend got his first girlfriend, I made fun of him mercilessly because he hadn't noticed that she was interested in him -- it had been a good six months -- until she kissed him at a party.

But what if that's me? I don't notice interest from guys until it becomes kind of physically obvious. What if I'm like freaking Jane Bennett in Pride and Prejudice -- not the stunningly beautiful part -- and guys just give up on me because I don't seem to be giving encouragement. I'm a flirty friend, but I'm painfully shy with people I don't know very well.

When a guy seems interested, I dismiss the thought because he can't be. When I look in the mirror, I don't like what I see.

Why would anyone else?

Right?

Falling, falling, falling

I'm in a bit of a downward spiral right now. 

I realized today that in the past year, I've grown apart from more than half of the people I consider to be my good friends in the city. And worse, I've realized that those people don't really care that we've grown apart.

My romantic/sex life continues to be non-existent. I don't know how to do anything about that (me? 21 in two months? never). What's really hilarious about that is that almost everyone in my school thinks I'm dating one of my two good guy friends. So essentially, I look like I have a romantic/sex life with not one but two guys who I will never actually have one with. That's fun. I'm sure that's getting me a lot of dates.

My academics are at their worst in years. I got a C+ in my easiest class last week. All of my profs clearly think I'm losing it. My journalistic instincts are way off.

I'm out of money. When I pay my rent this Thursday, I will be down to $60 to my name... and that's with incredible financial support from my family. I am basically as financially dependent as a 20-year-old comes. 

I don't have plans for a summer job or a living situation next fall.

I feel really, really trapped right now. I don't know how the hell to climb out of this hole. 

I need something good to happen.

I need help.

Someone Like You

Life is funny.

I've never had a real relationship. I found a few drafts that I wrote for this blog once about a guy who I thought would be my first real relationship, but he turned out to be two misguided weeks of dating and kissing.

Despite this reality, I have spent a year of my life having my heart broken over and over again by the same person with a lot of help from another. What's even more hilarious about this situation is that they still don't know that I was heartbroken for a year. And if they did know, I'd be in quite a predicament.

I'm struggling. The guy has made me feel better and worse than I've ever felt. His actions have that power over me. I wish they didn't. But they do.

But I, I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me it isn't over.

Never mind I'll find someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best for you two.
Don't forget me, I begged. I remember, you said...

It was a hard year. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. I frequently got pep talks from strangers and acquaintances, because I couldn't bear to talk to my close friends about it. I told myself and my closest friends in the world that any struggle was over my fear of losing his friendship, which was definitely an element too.

And then, when I got away from it all, when it was over and I was finally taken out of the freaking fishbowl that was my life... I felt even worse.

Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

And I'd like to pretend that it was clinical or that it had anything to do with my job or my friendships at home... but it was, as miserable as he had unintentionally made me all year, because he wasn't there. There was no way for me to see him, to knock on his door if I needed to, to ambush him with the hugs that make him so uncomfortable but that calm me down when I'm freaking out.

Even though there had been times in that year that I couldn't even look at him without wanting to cry... I was even more miserable when he was gone.

Which is so screwed up.

So screwed up.

Gah.

For the first time, I'm staring at a blog post and wondering if I should backspace it to oblivion. Posting would mean coming to the terms with the idea that maybe how I've been feeling more recently has some foundation somewhere.

And then I'd really have a lot to think about, and I'd only have about a week and a half in which to think about all of it.

I've written about this situation 3 or 4 times and talked about with friends countless times. I know that that may seem pathetic -- why can't this girl just focus on her own life, her work, her friends, her dreams, her future, her financial issues? But that's just the thing, isn't it? When you're falling for someone, there's a corner of your affection that wants them to be all of that. Even if it's just a fling (though in that case, it's a much smaller and much more subconscious corner, obviously).

When it comes down to it, I want an "us" to exist in our history. I depend on the hope that our friendship will last us a long time, but I know that there is untapped potential in us figuring out how to trust each other with what makes us individually fragile.

I'm about to press the "publish" button. I'm suddenly very aware of my inner masochist.

Thinking Out Loud

I'm one of those people who NEEDS to think out loud to achieve any kind of clarity. I thrive on it. I need to vocalize what I'm thinking, just because my brain is too damn cluttered.

So this is me thinking out loud.

I think I like someone. I think I like someone a lot. Today, I thought about the prospect of him getting back together with his ex-girlfriend and it made me feel physically ill. I feel like that's probably not a good thing. But I also know that that means something.

I've been trapped in a very cyclical confusion about this situation all summer. "I like him, I need him, he's my friend and I don't want to lose him, we could never date," and, most concerningly considering how I think I've been feeling, "he's like a brother."

...That has been a thought on particularly rough days. Most cycles skip over that step.

Today is a "he's my friend and I don't want to lose him" day with light "I like him" showers.

I'm basically writing this all out to stop myself from doing what I've been tempted to do all night: just tell him. But I absolutely can't. Definitely not until I've seen him, which I haven't for a while, and definitely not before I've worked out where my feelings are at.

---

I wrote this last night and promptly fell asleep. I don't know where I was going with the blog and I still don't know where I'm going with this whole situation.

I need help.

Dammit.

I promised, PROMISED myself that I would not let the Freshman 15 get me in university.

But here I am, 3 months in, and I have ALREADY gained at least fifteen pounds if not more. Coffee Beans and Ninety-One were kind of enough to discourage this thought in my head, but there's no disproving facts. I wasn't exactly a skinny girl before, but I was a healthy one, and I know that that girl has made an unwanted exit.

I haven't been anywhere near a scale, but, as a former fat chick, I know that my weight is going in the wrong direction. Things are hanging and bulging like they shouldn't be again and, while the boys kept coming in September, it is beyond noticeable that I haven't had ANY attention from ANYone since late October... and he was very very drunk.

Don't get me wrong. I don't need guys to validate my appearance. But I do know that guys didn't go for me when I was overweight and they did when I wasn't... so I can do the math.

So the decision is made. Once I finish the food currently in my room (which I plan to make a very slow process because binging isn't going to get me anywhere), it's fruit and HEALTHY granola bars only. In meal hall, tomorrow I switch to water with my meals and a soup and salad based diet that I will stick with. Nothing that comes from a lady in a hairnet behind a glass plate unless it's REALLY appealing. Dessert is officially limited to ice cream on Sunday.

I will go for a walk every day unless it is raining or freezing or I am overtaken by work. I will buy a pair of sweatpants from the bookstore so that I can start going to Zumba with Lauren and Massachusetts. And when I go dancing, I will actually shake it, goddammit!

I want my curves back. Here we go.

Oh No, She's Back...

I should be reading the work of a crazy promoter of brutality right now...

But instead I'm going to update my blog... because a lot has happened since I last came here.

University is finally upon me. I started in early September and am loving every minute of it. I have 7 wonderful floormates who now all need nicknames because they will be topics in the future. So let's introduce them...

The Roommate

My wonderful roommate who occasionally chills with Mary Jane and has a lot of wacky friends here who do too. =P

Cray-Cray

One of the girls next door who is absolutely hilarious. She has two wonderful laughs and a knack for brutal honesty. She also... um... struggles with the line sometimes.

Ninty-One

Cray-Cray's roommate, so named because she's a year older than the rest of the floor. Super sweet and super straight edge. Our floor mother.

Lauren

One night, Cray-Cray and I decided that this girl's name should be Lauren... Hehe. Lovely and very social. She studies hard and stage manages for the theatre club, but she loves to dance at the campus bar and drink a lil bit. =P First person I met aside from The Roommate.

Coffee Beans

This girl's got hair the colour of dark coffee beans and she also just adores coffee. I would use her "hipster name" but it's so much her real name by now it just would feel odd. Anyway, total hipster, total sweetheart, total crossword maniac, total genius. Love her.

Ronnie Rake

The only guy in my little group of friends and one of people I'm closest with here. He's VERY eccentric and VERY into theatre and... just for a curveball... VERY straight. I KNOW, right?

The Maritimer

Ronnie Rake's roommate. Very sweet, very absent. But when he's been drinking and he is around... he will turn up here because it's GREAT. =P

People who will get mentioned:

Massachusetts

The honorary floormate who is best friends with Coffee Beans. She's from Boston and she's lovely and she has odd tastes

The Don

Our res supervisor who is tiny and adorable and awesome.

Jekyll/Hyde

Our very intelligent but very crazy upstairs neighbour. I will actually use the name separately because I can.

Karrot Sticks

A girl I have issues with. I'm going to try and not mention her very much but ugh. Has an infatuation with Ronnie Rake.

The Drummer

Lives above me... ooooh what am I going to talk about, I dunno...

The Boy

I'm going to have to tip toe around my comments about him. For now, let's leave it as he's the boy of interest and nothing's happening with that (yet).

Here we goooo... blog coming very shortly (I will come up with more names as I need them).

Can You Hear Me Knocking on This One Way Mirror?

"I've been living to see you... dying to see you but it shouldn't be like this. This was unexpected... what do I do now? Could we start again please?"

I'm the type of girl who NEEDS to reach out to people when she sees them hurting. When I'm hurting, I need people to reach out to me.

When I know someone's hurting, it baffles me when I reach out and they don't let me in. I feel like I'm wanting them to look at me and let me tell them that everything's going to be alright, and they're wrapped in their own misery. And while I can live with that when I'm not close with a person, when it's one of the most important people in the world to me, my heart breaks into a million pieces.

I watched him walk into class today. I say "him," because his identity being private is so important write now. His eyes, once balls of fire, are now vacant. His gangly, slightly awkward stride, head up, has suddenly shrivelled into a subdued walk, head down. His leather jacket suddenly hangs differently on his shoulders. A positive energy is suddenly an unpleasant, clouded aura. A chipper voice is now hollow, if not absent. He appears then disappears. He doesn't acknowledge the people who care.

No one else except one person seems to notice or want to acknowledge it. But you see it and you know. He's not okay. And he won't reach back. He refuses.

"Try not to get worried, try not to turn onto problems that upset you. Don't you know everything's alright, yes, everything's fine... and we want you to sleep well tonight."