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Rated: E · Essay · Experience · #1485301
Ranting over my non existent love life.
***Author's Note***
I first wrote this as a blog on Facebook, and was quite pleased by the way it had turned out.  It is kind of a rant, and I apologize for that in advance, because once I get on a certain topic, I tend to beat the death out of it.  Please enjoy. =]



I received a pleasant surprise earlier this week, when I found that in fact, my Xanga had NOT been deleted.  It was still up and running, I had just forgotten that there was a underscore in my username.  Silly me. 

Reading through my posts was definitely an adventure, all of them being from 2005-2006. (One was from 2007 but it was just something saying that I was 'back', when I wasn't.  I read through my insecurities with the many boys I liked through high school, the obsessiveness I had with everything baseball related, and my apparent love of not capitalizing a single thing.  What joy.  At least I didn't use terrible grammar.

Looking back, I am surprised people read my posts at all, although most were my friends and I suppose that they read them to be nice.  But I would just gab about the same things every time.  Post after post, I obsessed over baseball and guys.  Even now, I don't find them interesting, and I wrote them!  To people who read my Xanga: How could you!?  I am kicking myself just for writing that stupidness!

I mentioned that in one of the lengthy "Repost within one hour or you will die" quizzes that I was in love once.  What a lie that was.  The person I was supposedly "in love with" didn't really know who I was, and once he did, I probably creeped him out (for good reason, but I am not going to get into that).  Now, I consider being loved as loving someone and having them love you back.  Maybe I have 'loved' people, but I was never in love with them.  There is a significant difference.

I have never had a boyfriend.  And maybe, that bothers me a little, but I have managed without one thus far, so who's to say that I will ever need one?  Don't get me wrong, however, having a boyfriend WOULD be nice, but with the high standard I have of men, it might take awhile.  Although now, I don't really want one.  I am perfectly okay in my singleton it is actually quite befitting as I should really focus on College. 

There used to be days where I'd want a boyfriend so bad, it was almost nauseating to perform daily activities.  I would yearn for guys I didn't even like that much, convincing myself that I liked, maybe even loved them.  It wasn't like it was hard.  My brain has always had an absolute rule on my heart.  I used to cry fairly often at night, hoping for some sort of male affection.  I never showed this at school because my friends had their own problems and when they involved guys, I didn't want to make them feel worse than the already were by telling them all my problems.  No one likes sob stories.

Most of my friends consider me as someone they can talk to about anything.  And I sort of like being that person, it makes me feel good to know that people like me well enough that they can trust me to give them good advice.  Then again, there are parts of me that hate it.  Especially when the advice is about guys.  I know relatively little on the subject as is, and I don't know anything about relationships, never having been in one.  Although I must say that I read people really well.  This knowledge of people has come from just observing people in different situations, something I would much rather do than talk to someone else.  But when I am having an especially bad day, and someone comes up to me tells me about  their boy problems, half of me wants to help them and the other half wants to strangle them.  I just want to say "Thank you for making me feel more terrible then I already do." and walk away, but the good person inside me tells me to stay put and give them my best answer.

Another thing that I hate about being the person everyone tells everything to is the fact that most people don't listen to me when I need it.  I will tell them something that has been bothering me and they either 1) Don’t listen or 2) Just wave it away as being trivial compared to their problems.  You can imagine how this makes me feel, but if I am disappointed, I will not show it.  Not at all.

I
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