(no subject)
Extreme moodiness comes almost day by day at this point.
I've been living in a dream thinking that I was happy being single. I'm a Libra whose sole goal in life to this point was finding a mate. Maybe I was, am, happy. How can I not know myself to this extent? How fucked up is that? I can't even decide what I feel and why half of the time. I really like Matt. Matt is the perfect man who could have anyone he wants, so why would he want me? Just because we get along famously, share a gazillion interests and can talk and laugh for hours, that's no reason to like me. Half the time I cry uncontrollably and the other half I am elated. To be free, to be learning in a classroom again. Then I remember that men only look at me when my boobs are hanging out and I can't shake this feeling that I will be single forever and then I think "hey lucky me" but then I allow thoughts of Gasim waiting for me to come home with oven mitts on and I just want to die. After all this time without a post and I just post the same no-one-could-give-a-fuck-if-they-tried crap that I've been posting for years. It's this constant realisation that gets me down sometimes. Of the double standard, of fat phobia.
I'm scared. I'm scared that I won't be able to be friends with Matt because I crave intimacy and that I'm going to fuck things up in my usual indirect style. I'm scared that I'll remember just how good it felt to be in Hennock's arms and I'll stop caring about the lies again. I know now that I can live happily without him, but I wonder if that was because I knew he was coming back.
Wow. I actually feel better. Thanks LJ.
I've been living in a dream thinking that I was happy being single. I'm a Libra whose sole goal in life to this point was finding a mate. Maybe I was, am, happy. How can I not know myself to this extent? How fucked up is that? I can't even decide what I feel and why half of the time. I really like Matt. Matt is the perfect man who could have anyone he wants, so why would he want me? Just because we get along famously, share a gazillion interests and can talk and laugh for hours, that's no reason to like me. Half the time I cry uncontrollably and the other half I am elated. To be free, to be learning in a classroom again. Then I remember that men only look at me when my boobs are hanging out and I can't shake this feeling that I will be single forever and then I think "hey lucky me" but then I allow thoughts of Gasim waiting for me to come home with oven mitts on and I just want to die. After all this time without a post and I just post the same no-one-could-give-a-fuck-if-they-tried crap that I've been posting for years. It's this constant realisation that gets me down sometimes. Of the double standard, of fat phobia.
I'm scared. I'm scared that I won't be able to be friends with Matt because I crave intimacy and that I'm going to fuck things up in my usual indirect style. I'm scared that I'll remember just how good it felt to be in Hennock's arms and I'll stop caring about the lies again. I know now that I can live happily without him, but I wonder if that was because I knew he was coming back.
Wow. I actually feel better. Thanks LJ.