Between the lines

Who needs happily ever after?

Certainly not a young twenty-something. Who cares about the ever after, as long as you're happy right now?

Except there comes a day when you realize that the happily right now isn't gonna lead to the happily ever after. In fact, you realize that the happily right now is actually just masking the fact that you're leading up to a very unhappily ever after. It's just leading you on.

So what do you do? Do you stay in your 'happy right now' bubble? Because it's comforting and familiar, and heck, let's be honest, you're happy for the most part. Or do you quit, throw in the towel, hurt for a little (or, as the case will probably be - hurt for a long while), but leave happily ever after as an option for later, for something more fantastic down the line?

I am amazing.

I just want to put it out there. I am amazing. And any guy would be lucky to have me. I'm tall, I'm smart, I'm caring, I cook, and I'm not completely terrible to look at. I come from a family that loves so much, it's almost suffocating. I believe in fairy tales and Prince Charmings, Tooth Fairies, and Santa Claus. And I'm a huge believer in people. Call me optimistic, but I like to think that I'm just happy (and yes, a little naive).

So let me just repeat that. I am amazing.

And while I might not always believe that myself, I need you to realize that I am. Amazing, that is.

Which means that I'm not going to sit around and let you play games with me.

You can't expect to go out on a dinner date with one girl, and then come home to me, and not have me feel hurt by it. Especially when everyone's been talking about how you and that other girl are probably dating. Especially since I only had our dinner dates to hold onto - to make me think that I was still special in your eyes.

No, I'm not asking you to stop going out with other girls. If you want to, you should. You should spend your time with whomever you want to spend your time with. I'm just asking for a little Aretha-Franklin-styled respect. If you flirt with other girls, don't come back to me and expect me to be un-phased by it. Un-hurt.

So go ahead. Go out and have your fun. We can be friends, sure. But I need some distance for the time being. 'Cause while you may have thrown in the proverbial towel on this pseudo-relationship a long time ago, I'm just now realizing that I'm holding on to nothing.

I'm just now realizing that while I am happy whenever I'm with you, it's leading up to nothing. And while I thought I could just live in the so-called moment and be happy whenever I'm with you, I'm realizing that the highs from that aren't matching the lows I feel when you treat me like I'm nothing special. The happy-right-now isn't worth the unhappily ever after just waiting to blow up in our faces.

So that's it.

I don't want anything from you. Because it's not my place to expect anything from you. But I am demanding a happily ever after from life. I deserve it. Because I am amazing. My happy-right-now bubble has popped, and the only thing keeping me going is the fact that I will one day reach my happily ever after.

Time to tell me the truth, to burden your mouth for what you say, no pieces of paper in the way. 'Cause I can't continue pretending to choose the opposite sides on which we fall, the loving you laters if at all. No right minds could wrong be this many times. My memory is cruel; I'm queen of attention to details, defending intentions if he fails - until now, he told me her name; it sounded familiar in a way. I could have sworn I'd heard him say it ten thousand times, if only I had been listening.

Leave unsaid unspoken. Eyes wide shut unopened. You and me - always between the lines.

The Last Goodbye

I've been angry at my best friend for the past 2 months.

Angry because I thought he was replacing me. Angry because I felt like I was losing the best friend I ever had. Angry because I thought he was placing everyone else before me.

And then I realize that really, I'm angry at myself.

Because I fell for him. Even after I told myself not to. After I convinced myself that we were just friends. After I convinced everyone else that we were just friends.

And now I can't stand watching him fall in love with another girl.

I tell myself that he's a sucky friend because we no longer spend as much time together as we used to. I'm no longer the usual study buddy. We no longer just end up at each others' apartments by default. He no longer writes me random emails. Random letters. Random post-it messages. There's no more hanging out with each other just for the heck of it. Just because we like being in each others' company.

I look at our friendship now and think that I've lost my best friend.

But the thing is, I didn't.

I lost a guy who liked me. The friend is still there. But it's so hard for me to recognize that those are two completely different things. But I know they're different. That's why I haven't just written him off and resigned myself to a future of awkwardness with him. Because he's still making an effort to be my friend. He's determined not to let things become weird. Because he is, afterall, still my friend.

And yet now I'm sitting here. Listening to all my sad love songs. Feeling sorry for myself. Wishing I didn't care so much.

But knowing I do.

Michelle, he's just not that into you.

I'll get over it. I will. And I know I can. I have before, and I will now. I will, because I must.

But this is the worst part about falling head over heels for someone. Each time you fall harder - no matter how much your chipped and cracked and trampled heart warns you not to.

I can't do this anymore to myself. I'm done.

Standing outside a broken phone booth

Everything is better on paper. The Grey's Anatomy spin-off was good on paper - and then that random pilot of Addison heading down to LA aired. Books are better on paper - your eyes don't have to strain as hard as you stare intently at your computer screen for overly long periods of time reading words you can barely pronounce, scrolling up and down to navigate the many columns of text. Men always seem better on paper too - with all their listed traits and desirabilities.

But this? This sounded disastrous.

A boy who couldn't commit because he wanted more time to distance himself from his last relationship? Asking me to just give him some time, wishing we could just pretend nothing had changed or happened. Or, if I wanted, maybe, we could, maybe, possibly, sorta, still call each other "just friends" that just happened to sleep together at night? And go out to dinner together? And vent to each other about everything that had gone horrendously wrong during the day? Maybe?

That just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

And against my better judgment, and what my roommate told me, what my best guy friend told me, I agreed to it. I agreed to pretend not to be hurt whenever I saw the ex's ring around his neck. Agreed to pretend not to care when he flirted with other girls "to keep up appearances." Agreed to not get angry when he asks me to wait to do homework with him, only to find out five hours later, that he did it already with some other people.

I don't know why. I think there's just some part of me that so wants to be loved, I'll take anything, even these meager bare-bones, not really there, scraps.

And yes. I know that paragraph, two paragraphs ago, makes me out to be a raging jealous bitch. Maybe I am. But I'm a raging jealous bitch because I care too much, and I know I really shouldn't. I really really shouldn't. I deserve better. I know that.

I was hoping that maybe something that sounded horrible on paper might end up to be not that bad after all. Maybe even absolutely wonderful. I was hoping there was something that would balance out all the "good on paper" disappointments.

But all I've realized through this non-relationship is that I'm a jealous bitch. Who knows she deserves better. But can't move on.

I'm stuck.

Frogs and princes

"I'm scared of commitment."

Four words.

They're just four little words.

Yet, how are you supposed to respond to that? Especially when those four little words bring on so much emotion. Storm clouds and confusion. Darkness and pathetic-ness. Tears and rain. Worthlessness and hurt.

Okay, that's a little overly dramatic.

But no lies, I was hurt. Because when I thought about it, he's not scared of commitment. Not at all. He has all these responsibilities and duties that he follows through with fabulously. He is the absolute epitome of committed. If he promised something, if he starts something, he always follows through. And not half-heartedly either. He's in it 150%. He goes all the way, and then some.

So it hurts when you realize that he's not scared of commitment. He's just scared of committing to you.

And it's me, of all people. If anyone has the right to be scared of commitment, it's me. Me, with my dark and damaged past with twisty ex-boyfriends. With the cheating exes baggage. Me, with my amazing knack of being either the girl guys date before they find The One or the girl guys date right after The Girl They Could Have Sworn WAS The One. I'm never The One They Can Bring Home to Mom.

You, with your previous 6-year relationship. You, who have more female friends than any boy I know because girls love how you're such a good friend and listener.

You are not allowed to be scared of commitment.

Because I've been the girl who's been stood up. Cheated on. Rebounded with. Spring fling'd. And I'm still more than excited about how relationships can make me and mold me into a better person. If I'm not scared of commitment, you can't be. I refuse to let you make that excuse. No matter how classic of a guy line that might be.

So go ahead and ask me for more time. Tell me that you need time to get over your ex baggage. That's fine. But I'm not waiting. Because I see you. And you're holding on so desperately to the past. Of what's familiar. And trust me, I get it. I get it, because I've done it.

And that's how I know that I don't want to be your place-holder. So don't tell me you have excess baggage. Get rid of it. Or unpack. But don't go leading me on while you figure that out.

Now, I only wish I knew how to act normally around you, like nothing has changed, when really, everything has.

Love is a marathon

I'm a bad friend.

I try so hard to be a good friend. To be there when someone needs me. To be supportive. To be that somebody you turn to for anything - whether it's a partner in crime, a person to laugh at (and with), the superhero sidekick, a shoulder to cry on, the voice of reason, the friend who helps you out when you're in between a rock and a hard place, whatever. I try.

But I so often fail. I'm realizing that I'm just a superficial friend. I'm great for the laughs, the girl talk, the silly psychoanalyzing of guy speak. Heck, I'm even pretty good at the comfort thing. I'm an amazing fair-weathered friend. I can even be a good friend when the weather is gloomy. It's when there's a torrential downpour that I can't be the good friend.

How am I a bad friend? Let me count the ways.

I have a friend who's made some poor decisions recently. I didn't say anything while she was making these choices, because I wanted to avoid the confrontation and I hoped that she would learn from the experience instead. Which is, in my opinion, the right thing to do. You don't want to be overly opinionated about other people's lives. But what do you do when they tell you that they regret those decisions, but continue making them over and over? Do you have the hard conversation that they don't want to hear and probably won't appreciate? You're supposed to step in and stage an intervention, but I can't.

I have another friend who had her heart broken recently. I was there when it happened and she needed the security of a support group. But that was months ago and she's still overly melodramatic and I can no longer deal with her "mourning period" as she calls it. I want to shake her and have her realize that the guy didn't like her and she needs to get over it. She needs to stop moping around, looking for people to sympathize with her. She's throwing her own little pity party, but no one wants to attend. Does my saying that make me a bad friend or just one who's reached the end of her patience rope? And if I'm really a good friend, shouldn't that rope be neverending? It's gotten to the point where I avoid talking to her, because I no longer know what to say.

Similarly (or conversely, depending on how you look at it), one of my other friends doesn't necessarily seek out my friendship, but I can't help but feel as though I'm his only connection to the outside world. And so I feel obligated to make sure he's doing okay. That he isn't immersing himself in a virtual world that acts as a safety net and allows him to hide from any actual contact and interaction with the real one. That's fine. I don't mind talking to him. But he hides from the real world because he's so bitter and jaded about his friends, about his life, about what he does have, and that's what makes it hard for me to have extended conversations with him. He sees only what he wants to see, and being a stubborn person myself, it's hard for me when people can't even acknowledge my point of view.

And then there's the classic example of holding a grudge. Once a friendship has had that huge argument or fight, there's no fixing it really. Even though I know I should forgive and forget, and I know that I have plenty of blame to share, I just can't get past it really. And that friendship is kinda irreparable, even though we might have been the best of friends to begin with.

Yet, I love my friends. I care about them intensely. If someone were to hurt them, I'd be out for a killing. So why is it that I can't love them unconditionally? Just as there are deal-breakers in relationships, there are little annoyances that get to friendships. The better a friend you are, the better you are at overcoming those pet peeves. But recently, I've hit hills that I can't get over. Being a good friend is exhausting, and I've hit the point where I don't think I can be that person anymore. I want to be that person so desperately. I can't though. I'm hoping it's just because I need to recharge. But I'm not quite sure how.

my first post

testing... 1-2-3.