weddings. and rationalizing sex.
my cousin georgina is jet-setting off to greece in a few days, where she will undoubtedly be proposed to by her boyfriend on a beach on some gorgeous island. she will return home with a rock the size of mykonos on her left hand and join the parade of people i know who are engaged or married or planning a wedding or getting married this summer.
this is so depressing, i can't stand it.
i'm happy for her, or rather, i will be, because she doesn't have the ring yet. she's my cousin and my friend and of course i'll be happy for her. she's had her share of rough times and she deserves to be happy. and i'm glad she's found someone who makes her happy. and i echo this sentiment for everyone else who is getting married or thinking about it: good for you, and i mean that. i'm happy that you're happy, but please, be happy away from me because it makes me sick to my stomach with the realization that in all liklihood, i will never be that happy.
family weddings mean that people i've never seen before will comment on my PAINFULLY OBVIOUS resemblence to my mother in both looks and personality (meet the woman for five seconds, you'll understand) and note that SHE was married at 22 and is there any hope for a repeat of such a feat? when am i getting married? it is with a heavy heart that i say now, to whoever cares to listen/read, that it's become an accepted fact by my family, that i am not one to provide in-laws, and grandchildren and nieces and nephews for the rest of the clan. i am "not the marrying type."
i wish i was. i'm so hopelessly jealous of those who are.
people seem to perceive me as a sort of maneater...someone who "like[s] to reel 'em in and then spit 'em out" -- or at least that's how i gauge their perceptions. i could be inaccurate, of course. but even in terms of identifying with characters on sex & the city, people seem to label me as "a samantha," one who cares for pleasure of the physical realm, and finds emotional fulfillment in the same place she finds physical fulfillment. while this is true in certain situations with certain people in accordance with various other conditions, i want so much more than just sex.
"this past year, i had totally lost all hope of my ability to successfully interact with boys in a dating-sort-of-way. i'd meet one, hit it off, and IMMEDIATELY get attached. and if course, he wouldn't share the sentiment, but by the time i'd realized this, i'd already told all my friends, and he'd gone on his merry way and i was left alone and looking like a tool.
this happened a lot until my skin thickened up and i stopped being such a goddamn girl about things. i learned to be jaded and detached. i learned to keep the emotions to a minimum and to have expectations that were either very small or nonexistant. my friends would tell me that i had come to regard things like sex and dating and romance and relationships...like a guy. i was detached and self-serving and i did not care.
it served as a defense mechanism. if i was detached, i couldn't get hurt if someone was going to leave me or forget about me or decide he didn't want me anymore. so i decided that i would show those boys that i could be just as detached as they were. or maybe moreso. i'd talk about sex as something to be used and seen for purely physical gratification. and it was. kind of. as far as anyone knew, it was. in my mind? i was aching to be held and appreciated. but i much preferred to be cold and distant as opposed to letting someone in. because letting someone in is an open invitation for them to hurt you."
this was how i rationalized things. because even though i KNEW things were purely physical, i could pretend for a little while that they weren't. i could pretend that the fact that i was lying in his arms meant he liked me, really liked me. maybe even cared for me. a boy i was seeing (though let's be honest, i wasn't ready for a real relationship, so our whole "thing" was based on sex, beer, and boondock saints. it was pretty fucking cool.) called me "babe" one morning and i nearly burst into tears. it was such a small and simple word but it meant something to me. because even though i knew the boundaries of what i had, he had crossed them, for nothing more than the whole second it took him to say the word, but it was enough. for that second, i mattered.
sex, while wonderful (usually), does not substitute for real human emotion. if all i wanted was sex, i'd go out and get it and it would be EASY. i cannot stress the ease enough, but perhaps that's why it's losing its appeal. maybe that's why i want more. it's like being fed sugar-pill placebos for years and finally getting a glimpse of the cure, only to be totally and completely unable to reach it but still having it within your line of sight. and since you've seen it, you figure it MIGHT be attainable, so you keep taking your placebo, hoping that one day, you'll be surprised, but always knowing in the back of your mind that one is no real substitute for the other.
so when a certain boy expressed an interest in me, or rather, in my vagina, i turned him down. and told him that i wanted someone else. so he clarified for me, he wanted a no-strings kinda deal. while he's articulate and charming and adorable, the only thing he wants to do is me. and i'm willing to hold out for something better, because it's about time i was selfish for a change.
this is so depressing, i can't stand it.
i'm happy for her, or rather, i will be, because she doesn't have the ring yet. she's my cousin and my friend and of course i'll be happy for her. she's had her share of rough times and she deserves to be happy. and i'm glad she's found someone who makes her happy. and i echo this sentiment for everyone else who is getting married or thinking about it: good for you, and i mean that. i'm happy that you're happy, but please, be happy away from me because it makes me sick to my stomach with the realization that in all liklihood, i will never be that happy.
family weddings mean that people i've never seen before will comment on my PAINFULLY OBVIOUS resemblence to my mother in both looks and personality (meet the woman for five seconds, you'll understand) and note that SHE was married at 22 and is there any hope for a repeat of such a feat? when am i getting married? it is with a heavy heart that i say now, to whoever cares to listen/read, that it's become an accepted fact by my family, that i am not one to provide in-laws, and grandchildren and nieces and nephews for the rest of the clan. i am "not the marrying type."
i wish i was. i'm so hopelessly jealous of those who are.
people seem to perceive me as a sort of maneater...someone who "like[s] to reel 'em in and then spit 'em out" -- or at least that's how i gauge their perceptions. i could be inaccurate, of course. but even in terms of identifying with characters on sex & the city, people seem to label me as "a samantha," one who cares for pleasure of the physical realm, and finds emotional fulfillment in the same place she finds physical fulfillment. while this is true in certain situations with certain people in accordance with various other conditions, i want so much more than just sex.
"this past year, i had totally lost all hope of my ability to successfully interact with boys in a dating-sort-of-way. i'd meet one, hit it off, and IMMEDIATELY get attached. and if course, he wouldn't share the sentiment, but by the time i'd realized this, i'd already told all my friends, and he'd gone on his merry way and i was left alone and looking like a tool.
this happened a lot until my skin thickened up and i stopped being such a goddamn girl about things. i learned to be jaded and detached. i learned to keep the emotions to a minimum and to have expectations that were either very small or nonexistant. my friends would tell me that i had come to regard things like sex and dating and romance and relationships...like a guy. i was detached and self-serving and i did not care.
it served as a defense mechanism. if i was detached, i couldn't get hurt if someone was going to leave me or forget about me or decide he didn't want me anymore. so i decided that i would show those boys that i could be just as detached as they were. or maybe moreso. i'd talk about sex as something to be used and seen for purely physical gratification. and it was. kind of. as far as anyone knew, it was. in my mind? i was aching to be held and appreciated. but i much preferred to be cold and distant as opposed to letting someone in. because letting someone in is an open invitation for them to hurt you."
this was how i rationalized things. because even though i KNEW things were purely physical, i could pretend for a little while that they weren't. i could pretend that the fact that i was lying in his arms meant he liked me, really liked me. maybe even cared for me. a boy i was seeing (though let's be honest, i wasn't ready for a real relationship, so our whole "thing" was based on sex, beer, and boondock saints. it was pretty fucking cool.) called me "babe" one morning and i nearly burst into tears. it was such a small and simple word but it meant something to me. because even though i knew the boundaries of what i had, he had crossed them, for nothing more than the whole second it took him to say the word, but it was enough. for that second, i mattered.
sex, while wonderful (usually), does not substitute for real human emotion. if all i wanted was sex, i'd go out and get it and it would be EASY. i cannot stress the ease enough, but perhaps that's why it's losing its appeal. maybe that's why i want more. it's like being fed sugar-pill placebos for years and finally getting a glimpse of the cure, only to be totally and completely unable to reach it but still having it within your line of sight. and since you've seen it, you figure it MIGHT be attainable, so you keep taking your placebo, hoping that one day, you'll be surprised, but always knowing in the back of your mind that one is no real substitute for the other.
so when a certain boy expressed an interest in me, or rather, in my vagina, i turned him down. and told him that i wanted someone else. so he clarified for me, he wanted a no-strings kinda deal. while he's articulate and charming and adorable, the only thing he wants to do is me. and i'm willing to hold out for something better, because it's about time i was selfish for a change.