(no subject)
in a fury or a depression, I wrote this last night. based on the events of this morning, I'm not so sure it holds true anymore. or as strictly.
about love. or "like." whatever.
things have to change, I suppose. sadly. I don't want to admit it. I still have it in my mind -- and in my heart -- that if I dream enough I can will some boy, a boy that I like and that I want, will want me back and show it. there's one in my heart. and I see him everywhere and wish he'd come sit with me at breakfast or lunch or dinner (we're always in the dining hall at the same time), and I wish he'd do more than just smile at me and greet me, and I wish that somehow magically we could've been placed into the same project group for our expository writing class. I flip through facebook and wind up on his page and imagine that he could like me back, and I imagine us holding hands and going on dates and I wonder what it would take to sway him in my direction.
my track record ... if it even exists (since I've never been proactive and never experienced anything real) is poor.
mike -- fail. despite all the signs that I thought indicated some mutual attraction, he liked the british bint Antonia. the one who tries to hug me every time I see her. I caught them groping once. it was pretty sickening.
the guy in SAT prep -- fail. but I didn't have any real goals here.
howard -- fail. but I didn't really like him.
chris clements -- fail. but I think I sabatoged it.
rob -- fail. because I stopped talking to him when I figured that he couldn't possibly like me.
maybe I do it to myself. maybe I shoot myself in the foot. when I really think hard, it seems like the pattern. rachel likes somebody. a lot. enjoys them ... gets scared, decides that there's no possibility of them ever liking her and stops speaking to them or says something sharp-tongued one day, has her feelings hurt, moves on.
I'm dancing around the issue. there's a boy that I like. I want. and no, I don't run out of the house searching for someone to be hooked on just because I want a relationship.
there's a boy in expository writing named jansen. he's from wisconsin. he wears glasses. he's quiet and shy (I think), and he does crew and he's single and liberal and seems to love film. he seems sweet, he's attractive and I wish I could get to know him. he comes to meals alone often, as I do. and sometimes we sit at seperate tables, unobstructed and facing each other ... and I want nothing more than go and sit with him and get to know him ... be his friend and maybe discover the feeling is mutual and then see what happens. we have one class together ... a small class, where there are only twelve people. we sit across from each other and chat vaguely, in a "we're definately acquainted, definately not friends" sort of way.
it's funny. when I met him, I couldn't stand him. I made assumptions, I was wrong. I saw him and he looked just like a boy I'd gone to middle school with, and I associated him with that memory and jumped on the defensive. in my mind, I saw him and I said, "here's this guy, middle-class, white, probably has done this-that-or-the-other in his life. he's always going to think he's right, and he's going to try and tell me I'm wrong. I'm going to have to put him in his place."
well, I was wrong. because we come out on the same side in class arguments. he says things that I want to say in his kind of muted way when I don't feel like speaking. and I hide a grin.
I get the feeling I could be his friend. I think I'm friendly. and I think people like me. and if I didn't give a damn about "oh, I like this boy" then I could just be me -- really loud and really strange and quirky -- but one day I just looked at him in a new way and now I'm too scared to be that way. and every time I get up the nerve to sit with him or talk with him, he either doesn't come to the meal or he comes with some guy friends and I back down.
but I want him. and I like him. and I want him to be my friend ... and more. and that means somethings going to have to change with my deal.
about love. or "like." whatever.
things have to change, I suppose. sadly. I don't want to admit it. I still have it in my mind -- and in my heart -- that if I dream enough I can will some boy, a boy that I like and that I want, will want me back and show it. there's one in my heart. and I see him everywhere and wish he'd come sit with me at breakfast or lunch or dinner (we're always in the dining hall at the same time), and I wish he'd do more than just smile at me and greet me, and I wish that somehow magically we could've been placed into the same project group for our expository writing class. I flip through facebook and wind up on his page and imagine that he could like me back, and I imagine us holding hands and going on dates and I wonder what it would take to sway him in my direction.
my track record ... if it even exists (since I've never been proactive and never experienced anything real) is poor.
mike -- fail. despite all the signs that I thought indicated some mutual attraction, he liked the british bint Antonia. the one who tries to hug me every time I see her. I caught them groping once. it was pretty sickening.
the guy in SAT prep -- fail. but I didn't have any real goals here.
howard -- fail. but I didn't really like him.
chris clements -- fail. but I think I sabatoged it.
rob -- fail. because I stopped talking to him when I figured that he couldn't possibly like me.
maybe I do it to myself. maybe I shoot myself in the foot. when I really think hard, it seems like the pattern. rachel likes somebody. a lot. enjoys them ... gets scared, decides that there's no possibility of them ever liking her and stops speaking to them or says something sharp-tongued one day, has her feelings hurt, moves on.
I'm dancing around the issue. there's a boy that I like. I want. and no, I don't run out of the house searching for someone to be hooked on just because I want a relationship.
there's a boy in expository writing named jansen. he's from wisconsin. he wears glasses. he's quiet and shy (I think), and he does crew and he's single and liberal and seems to love film. he seems sweet, he's attractive and I wish I could get to know him. he comes to meals alone often, as I do. and sometimes we sit at seperate tables, unobstructed and facing each other ... and I want nothing more than go and sit with him and get to know him ... be his friend and maybe discover the feeling is mutual and then see what happens. we have one class together ... a small class, where there are only twelve people. we sit across from each other and chat vaguely, in a "we're definately acquainted, definately not friends" sort of way.
it's funny. when I met him, I couldn't stand him. I made assumptions, I was wrong. I saw him and he looked just like a boy I'd gone to middle school with, and I associated him with that memory and jumped on the defensive. in my mind, I saw him and I said, "here's this guy, middle-class, white, probably has done this-that-or-the-other in his life. he's always going to think he's right, and he's going to try and tell me I'm wrong. I'm going to have to put him in his place."
well, I was wrong. because we come out on the same side in class arguments. he says things that I want to say in his kind of muted way when I don't feel like speaking. and I hide a grin.
I get the feeling I could be his friend. I think I'm friendly. and I think people like me. and if I didn't give a damn about "oh, I like this boy" then I could just be me -- really loud and really strange and quirky -- but one day I just looked at him in a new way and now I'm too scared to be that way. and every time I get up the nerve to sit with him or talk with him, he either doesn't come to the meal or he comes with some guy friends and I back down.
but I want him. and I like him. and I want him to be my friend ... and more. and that means somethings going to have to change with my deal.