The battle of the conscious and subconscious.
Well. While pondering the failings in my social life, I was feeling terribly DISPOSABLE and was not in any way helped by the lack of people to talk to. Granted, with a 9 hour time difference, it is mostly invonvenience and hardly being ignored when it comes to the friends back home, but I was staring at my computer thinking about how I didn't even have a single soul to talk to about how alone I was feeling. I was all but begging for LJ and myspace comments about my situation, and instead I was just reading updates of everyone else's lives, some wonderful some too busy, and others feeling just as down as I was. I decided to talk to a guy, a guy whom I feel, despite or because of mistakes he may have made, etc... I figured he might know a thing or two about my shortcomings in that department. That was when the subconscious was brought to my attention. "Maybe you are subconsciously choosing guys who will leave."
Whoa. For a while there I had forgotten about this intense fear of commitment. I really had. But maybe not all of me has forgotten.
The real question I have now is how to know what my subconscious knows. I can't look at a guy and think, Ohhh, he's gonna be a flake, let's get attached. I look at a guy and think, oh he is this, that, or the other thing, including passionate, artistic, interesting, sweet, nice, cute, fun, etc. Somehow, my subconscious must be sneakily choosing the ones who also have that aura of "and totally the type to leave!" about them. I'd owe it all to chance if it weren't so consistent. How do you spot a leaver? A flake? A total douchebag waiting to just walk away and leave you hanging?
Maybe my problem is that I am always going after the guys who are "too good to be true" and while I may have the ability to snag their attention for some brief or extended fling or friendship, I don't have what it takes to keep them interested.
I don't really know what it is though...
I think I am interesting, intelligent, cute, friendly, outgoing, entertaining, pleasant, not bad in the bedroom activities...
So what DON'T I have?
I don't have a flawless body, pretty far from it, really. I am not terribly adventurous in some senses. I certainly don't have childbearing hips, so maybe I should blame that. I am not... exotic? I am not...
Oh, what the hell... I don't know. My first reaction is to blame it on my body, and that is SHITE. Shite that it means so much that it could cancel out all of the good things I have to offer.
Well, fuck all the stupid men who think that a thick waist, smallish boobs, and whatever else I have are so unattractive that they can't stand me. That's right FUCK OFF. Grrrr.
And fuck my subconscious for always finding the douchebags.
And fuck a lot of other stuff too.
Whoa. For a while there I had forgotten about this intense fear of commitment. I really had. But maybe not all of me has forgotten.
The real question I have now is how to know what my subconscious knows. I can't look at a guy and think, Ohhh, he's gonna be a flake, let's get attached. I look at a guy and think, oh he is this, that, or the other thing, including passionate, artistic, interesting, sweet, nice, cute, fun, etc. Somehow, my subconscious must be sneakily choosing the ones who also have that aura of "and totally the type to leave!" about them. I'd owe it all to chance if it weren't so consistent. How do you spot a leaver? A flake? A total douchebag waiting to just walk away and leave you hanging?
Maybe my problem is that I am always going after the guys who are "too good to be true" and while I may have the ability to snag their attention for some brief or extended fling or friendship, I don't have what it takes to keep them interested.
I don't really know what it is though...
I think I am interesting, intelligent, cute, friendly, outgoing, entertaining, pleasant, not bad in the bedroom activities...
So what DON'T I have?
I don't have a flawless body, pretty far from it, really. I am not terribly adventurous in some senses. I certainly don't have childbearing hips, so maybe I should blame that. I am not... exotic? I am not...
Oh, what the hell... I don't know. My first reaction is to blame it on my body, and that is SHITE. Shite that it means so much that it could cancel out all of the good things I have to offer.
Well, fuck all the stupid men who think that a thick waist, smallish boobs, and whatever else I have are so unattractive that they can't stand me. That's right FUCK OFF. Grrrr.
And fuck my subconscious for always finding the douchebags.
And fuck a lot of other stuff too.