Thursday, May 13, 2004

if starsailing had categories this post would definitely be filed under: not only do i hate breaking up but i also have issues about hooking up. or maybe just: boy blahama.

ok there is no way around this...about a year ago while driving through san antonio with a broken cd player and my daily fill of npr, i let the dial fall on one of those top hits stations and behold cameth unto me kelly clarkson singing miss. independent. it was an immediate and shameful connection; "miss independent, miss self-sufficient, miss keep your distance, no miss on her own miss almost grown, miss never let a man help her off her throne. so, by keeping her heart protected she'd never ever feel rejected. little miss apprehensive." i mean add a friggin ie to all those miss(es) in the song, and literally, it's about me. or was about me. me before the boy; the boy to whom i would recklessly give my heart too. and here is the thing i didn't understand until it happened to me-how girls could get so bent out of shape just because some guy didn't like them or cheated on them or went away to europe and wanted to be single for any unexpected opportunities. in my opinion such guys (even the dude that was a dick weed in the process) were doing us girls a favor by getting out of our lives, allowing us to move on so one day we would have the opportunity to fall in love with the right one. but that perspective was based on the foundation from a girl who was living under a bell jar with pink and purple speckled butterflies; a girl who was as apprehensive as every over protective father prays his baby girl will be. but then the day came when a boy with blue eyes and an irrestiable charm swept my head right up and off my shoulders. my heart layed craving his approval, yearning for him to desire the gift i was finally wanting to give; me vulnerable, adoring, placing hope in the claws of the unknown, caring about the outcome of our relationship but instead he slowly declined. that's when i started to realize what the problem was with all those bent out of shape girls: when you give someone your heart, you inadvertently place your worth in their hands as well, and so when the rejection comes so does the feeling of being inadequate, of not being important enough to be made special. those emotions that stem from feeling rejected. and i felt all that and then some, i felt depressingly cheap because i was worth the hankey and hanging out with but i wasn't worth commitment, or simple acts of adoration, or being set apart as the top girl in his life. it's much easier to convince yourself that "he's the bozo for not seeing how incredible i am" when "he" doesn't still have your heart dragging on a leash through the mud. off course later on your suppose to realize that it had nothing to do with a lack of realization but the conclusion that the cards fell where they were meant to. and that later, day by day, is becoming sooner than later for me. thank-god. still their are little things i know i shouldn't let get to me but they somehow do, and it's frustrating to be kinda upset that he went to a fun show with another girl tonight and didn't even bother to invite me or want to stay up telling me all about it and how he wishes i could have been there too. i was searching for those words but they never came and now it's 3:30am and i'm still awake because of it.

arghhhh. oh to be little miss apprehensive-little miss i don't care if you care about making me feel special because i don't need you to realize that i am to make me feel that i really am soon again.

what an effin headache. this must be why god gave us the ingeniuty for the invention of dildos- for the small percentage of us females who effin hate feeling like you need anything from a man...especially when it's uncalled for or plain ol' retarded.

the lesson to be learned is that you should never give your heart away. never. not even to your soul-mate. jesus for sure but that's it!!! let them see it, touch it from time to time but in the words of gandolf the grey, "keep it safe, keep it secret."

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