It’s my Clerks year.  You either get the reference or you don’t.  And if you don’t, that’s cool.  My brain has way too many random scraps of barely useful information.

I’m still here.  And still single.  And still horny.

Also, she’s back.  And Green Eyes is still a bitch.

Too many of my friends are leading lives I want to live and it’s driving me crazy.  I see them in relationships, preparing to pop the question, planning weddings, about to have children, and I want to fucking scream.  I want to gnash my teeth and bellow and wail and hurt someone or something or just myself.

Save the eulogizing; I know I’m not supposed to compare myself to others.  I know my life is far more than it was just a few years ago.  I see the path I am on and know great things lie ahead.  But I also know what I want beyond the career, beyond the money and prestige and helping everyone else except for my damn self.  I know.  And I don’t have it and can’t get it.

I’m caught between this place of selfishness and selflessness.  I keep being that great friend to everyone else, going beyond what they possibly would for others.  I don’t see it reflected back towards me, though.  I want someone to cuddle up to at night and wake up with in the morning.  But I also have loved having my own space again.  And not being someone’s maid.  And not getting angry when someone does some stupid shit in my space.  It’s just, can I actually have someone in my life and my world and my space without them driving me absolutely fucking nuts?  Cause like Green Eyes, I too can be a bitch, and I don’t want to be a bitch towards someone, but it’s gonna happen.  And how do I deal with that?

I think of having children and sacrificing for them endlessly and exuding that unconditional love, no problem.  I think of that in a relationship and I get angry.  Very angry.

Oh.  Flashbacks.

It’s cause I’ve already done this in multiple “relationships”, and every time I was taken advantage of by someone, I just shut down.  No wonder I really like casual sex.  I show up, we’re fun, and I leave.  I want an extended causal sex relationship that gracefully morphs into a romantic relationship.  I want a needle from a haystack.  I want what might not be possible.  Shit.

Also, I’m scared about not being able to have kids in the future.  And never really truly being in love.  And all of the existential bullshit you would expect from a single person in their thirties. 

Ugh… sad and boring.

Read another post.  A sexier post.  This one is shit.

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