A Final Attempt

I guess Dressgate was totally worth it since I have never had so many compliments on a dress in my life.  I felt pretty, and that was exactly what I was going for.  Taste of The South was such a fun event, although I still can’t feel my toes.  It was wonderful to see so many people that I rarely run into anymore.  There is one person who I still can’t decide how I feel about running into, Liam (The Many Loves of my Life, Strangers Now?).  

It’s been two years since I've seen Liam, yet he looks exactly the same, he looks good.  Boy always has looked good in a suit, and in a tux dear god!  It’s funny how seeing someone can trig things you haven't felt or thought about in quite a while.  I can’t remember the last time Liam had crossed my mind, but the moment I saw him I had a knot in the pit of my stomach.  I don’t know if it is because I will always have feelings for him, or if I just have never known what went wrong with us, but seeing him throws off my equilibrium.  

After a few cocktails I decided that I looked too good not to take this opportunity to talk to him.  Shoving my throbbing feet back in my heels I threw caution to the wind and went and said hello.  He was nice, cordial, asking several times if I was well.  We said let’s get drinks and catch up sometime and that was it.  I had done it, probably a little drunker than I should have, but at least I had talked to him.  

Although I am proud of myself for talking to him, I have not been able to shake him from my thoughts.  Liam and how our friendship abruptly ended with no explanation is one of my life’s mysteries.  I decided that I would email him.  Just a quick good to see you.  Glad to know you are well.  Let’s grab a drink some time.  Short and sweet and cordial, like our run in at TOTS.    

Sometimes you do things not because you expect something in return, but for yourself.  You need to know you did everything to try to possibly save something that once meant so much to you. That is what that email was for me. It was my attempt for him to get to know the woman I have become, and to find out what kind of man he has become. Four years ago I was a girl trying to figure out what it meant to be an adult. I was idealistic, believing that life could be as simple as falling into the job I always wanted and meet an amazing boy all at the same time.  I had yet to take off the rose colored glass that I wore to look at the world.  

Liam was the light in that world that was starting to be so much different that I had dreamed.  He was more kind to me than any boy had ever been in all my life, and truly no one has been as kind since.  I was used to being called fat, and written off by the guys I went to college with.  When Liam would tell me I looked pretty his eyes showed that he was sincere.  The way they would twinkle and the corners of his mouth would curl into the hint of a smile always gave his thoughts away.  Seeing him I felt like I was that 23 year old girl all over again, looking for that twinkle and that hint of a smile.  But I am not that girl, I am so much better.  I am a woman that seeks approval in myself, not others.  I know who I am, what I want, and that I am the only one that can get it for myself.  

I don’t know that I can ever truly express how much Liam meant to me back then, what he represented, or how hard I would fight for him in my life if it was a possibility.  That is what my email was, one more attempt to fight, just so I can know I did.  Liam won’t respond, I knew that when I sent it.  The final decision about our friendship was made by him long ago.  I guess I was just holding on to a tiny glimmer of hope that he might have forgive whatever it was that destroyed our friendship.  Now I know that any hope for that is gone.  Maybe now my heart won’t flutter if I see him, maybe now I can finally let go.  

The Good Out Weighs the Bad

Some days, you just like the way your dress fits, or the way your hair is laying.  Some days, you just feel 100% comfortable in your own skin.  These days are few and far between for me, especially during bathing suit season, but today is one of those days.  Maybe it is the fact that a cute boy from Tinder asked me out on a date.  Maybe it is how completely comfortable I am in my new job, and that happiness is spilling over.  Maybe it is the fact that I am feeling so blessed by the amazing friends I have surrounded myself with.  Friends that believe in judgement-free, unconditional support.  

More likely than not it is the cute boy.  Let’s call him Mr. South America, since he spends half his time there for work.  He is cute, taller than me when I wear heels, and constantly tells me how pretty I am.  I think most men underestimate the power of a compliment as simple as telling a girl you think she is pretty or beautiful.  “God, you're gorgeous” at random will make a girl melt, at least this girl.  Mr. South America and I met for late drinks and the chemistry was there immediately.  He made me laugh, so basically he found the two ways to melt my ever hardening heart, appeal to my vanity and my sense of humor. I broke my rule and let him kiss me in the bar, and stay the night on a first date.  Our sleepover was tame, clothed, and limited to making out and cuddling.  He only got the invite because we drank too much for him to drive home.  He wants to see me again when he gets back from South America in 2 weeks, and that excites me.  

I need it, a good date, a guy that actually wants to spend time with me, someone that makes it easier to love myself.  The creeps, users, and heartbreakers have been in full force lately.  There is the Facebook Messenger, who, after not seeing me for over a year, thinks I will just invite him over to have sex.  Which is even worse than the Saturday Morning Texter.  I am not 22 anymore.  I want more than a booty call.  It isn’t that I want more from either of them, just in general, I want more than that.  I don’t want a boy that makes me feel like the only thing I am good for is my ass or my nice rack.  Yes, maybe it is my own fault that one of them thinks his messages are ok.  Over the years when the loneliness is all consuming and the text arrives, the need to be touched overcomes my need for something more.  I have even been the instigator, sending a text or two of my own.  I have let it go on for so long, probably because once upon a time, I had feelings for him.  Once upon a time, I thought he and I could have had something real.         

The worst is Mr. Martini, who definitely deserves a martini thrown in his face.  I don’t begrudge him for meeting someone else that he is “head over heels for,” but I do begrudge him telling me in a text message.  I loathe him for acting interested, when he never really was.  I wish I could have back the hours of texting about movies, tv, and everything else we have in common.  It isn’t that he broke my heart, but more that he reminded me that I am too often the girl before “THE Girl.”  

I don’t know that things with Mr. South America are going to work out.  But I do know that he has already treated me with more respect than the above listed three.  Instead of feeding on my insecurities, he reminds me of my beauty.  I don’t need a boy telling me I am pretty to know I am pretty, but it sure helps to not have one pointing out your flaws.  My life is great, and today I am appreciating the good.  As frustrated as I get with all the boy drama, I know that its is the assholes, creeps, and heartbreakers that help me know when something is truly good.         

Bye Bye Bama

Two weeks.  All I have is two weeks to get Bama to kiss me.  He is leaving, moving back to Alabama.  My crush smothered just as it was beginning.  I had thought about what it would be like to flirt with him all summer.  To dance with him on some hot dance floor in the wee hours of a summer morning.  To splash around in a pool fully aware of when our bare skin would touch.  To kiss on my rooftop under the summer stars.  

Now if I do any of those things, it will be with someone that right now is nameless and faceless.  It won’t be with Bama, the boy whose crystal blue eyes have been haunting my fantasies since the day we met.  How do you say goodbye when you have barely finished saying hello?  

More so, I am sad for Hadley, who is losing one of her best friends.  It is so sudden.  Two weeks is all anyone gets.  It’s not even enough time to throw a party.  Goodbye parties aren’t really for the people they are thrown for.  The are for the friends of the person leaving, so they can make one last memory and smother their feelings with booze and cake.  Cake can solve just about anything, and if cake can’t solve it, surely booze can.  

One of the worst parts about living in DC is the fact that 50% of the people you meet won’t stay here.  Washington, for many people, is a pit stop necessary to the life they want somewhere else.  People come for a few years and get tired of the cutthroat mentality, so they head back to wherever home is.  Sometimes when people leave, you see it coming, and other times the news is like a sucker punch to the gut.  I consider myself a lifer.  When I look into the future, I don’t see myself anywhere else.  That is why it is hard for me to understand why some people choose to go back home because this is my home now.  

Now, I need to figure out my plan, come up with a strategy.  I only have two weeks before Bama heads back to the south, back to the world where only old people find me attractive.  I hate the idea of not being able to get what I want, and I want Bama.  I want to run my fingers through his hair and my hands along his muscular back.  I don’t want to have to imagine what kind of kisser he is; I want to know.  So, I need a plan.  Really, I just need to get myself in a room with him. I like to think that I have enough game that I can make moves, or hope that if in a room with me, he might want to make some moves of his own.   

It is funny how things change so quickly.  Just last week Bama was a symbol for possibility, and now he is bringing out desperation.  Possibility now has limits, a time restraint, a ticking clock slowly diminishing the free feeling of hope.  In the end, adding Bama to the long list of crushes that never reached their potential.

Happy Blog Anniversary!

A year ago, I started this blog looking for an outlet, a safe place to write.  Most of the time it has been just that, my safe haven from the sad reality that is often my personal life.  I have told you about my heartaches and my sexscapades, my insecurities and my triophant moments.  

So for those of you just joining us, let me reintroduce myself.  My name is Harper, and I am a 25 year old southern transplant living in the Nation’s Capital.  I am a curvy blonde with a love for Zumba and a true disdain for diets, even though I am always on one.    I have a wonderful job that I love, that challenges me, and where I can see a bright future.  I live in a studio apartment the size of a shoebox in a great location, but it is my shoe box and my sanity is worth ever overpriced penny.  My love life is always in some state of disarray and currently I am nursing a freshly broken heart.  

I have found myself at several cross roads over the past year.  After losing my job, I had to decide what career path I wanted to take, and really whether or not I would stay in DC.  Staying here was an easy decision, my life is here now.  The career path that ended up laying itself out in front of me could not be more perfect.  It combines all my passions and talents.  It is as if every shitty thing I went though at my old job was to prepare me for this, to help me appreciate it when work is good.   

I chose to move out of my fabulous 2 bedroom apartment with a private rooftop to live alone in a studio.  I wasn’t scared of being lonely anymore, because I had learned over the 2 years prior just because you weren’t physically alone didn’t mean you couldn’t be lonely.  It was worse to live in an apartment with someone who didn’t even like you than to be all alone.  

I have had ups and downs with friendships that I thought were unshakeable.  I barely speak to some people who I thought would be bridesmaids in my wedding someday.  I have met new people who feel like they have been a part of my life forever, and rekindled friendships with people who actually have.  Friendship is a tricky thing, and each one is very different and with it’s own limits.  I still battle with knowing when to hold on and when to let go.   

I also chose to give my heart to someone who didn’t deserve it, who didn’t want it in the first place.  I told someone that I loved him, and I know now, even though I should have always known, that he will never love me back.  Just because I should have known doesn’t make it hurt any less.  It was my choice to put myself out there, my choice to ignore my friends’ concerns, because I thought I knew him better than they did, I thought it was worth the risk.  Maybe it was.  Now, I don’t have to wonder, if I would have put myself out there, would he have chosen me.  I don’t have any regrets.  Does it hurt like hell? Yes.  Do I wish I could have avoided that? Of course.  But do I regret loving him? I can’t - I shouldn’t, and I won’t.  Love is even trickier than friendship and is completely nonsensical.  

I believe we learn something from every person that comes in and out of our lives.  Even if that lesson is some people are just complete assholes.  Each person helps mold you a little, helps you grow into who you are supposed to be.  We just have to look for the lesson.  For me, writing this blog has helped me find those lessons, helped me sort out the craziness that is my life.        

So who am I? I am a semi-disaster of a woman with a great job, awesome apartment, and a broken heart.  Why should you keep reading?  Disaster will ensue - hilarious, relatable disaster.  It always does.    

Tuesday

The hardest part about trying to get over someone is seeing them before you are ready.  That moment you see them coming towards you in the crowded bar is like slow motion, there is no time to run, and you can't pretend that you didn’t see them because you already made accidental eye contact.  Last TI stopped mid-sentence when I saw D walking right towards me.  My heart stopped.

The first thing I noticed is that he cut his hair and I like it.  Why do I still wish I could run my fingers through it?  That is beside the point, even if we did talk about his hair cut.  He asked me where I have been.  My question of whether or not he would notice my absence was answered.  He asked when I was coming back to that certain social event that used to put us in the same place once a week.  I tried to be nonchalant (I think I succeeded), and said I had been busy and I would think about coming back.  He kept pushing the issue, but I didn’t cave.  As he got up from the table I was occupying, he asked again:

D: So I will see you Tuesday?

Me: Maybe, I will think about it.

D: So that is a yes.

Me: It’s a I’ll think about it.

D: I see how it is.  I cut my hair and you don’t find my charming anymore.

Me: (Jokingly) That isn’t it.  We both know the problem is I do still find you very charming.  I will see you later. (ending the subject, and dismissing him)

As he disappeared to another level of the bar, I hoped that would be all I would see of him.  Thinking that my last comment might have been enough to keep him away.  I was wrong.  About 30 minutes later, he came down the stairs and perched a stool across from where my table sat  - blocking my way to the bar.  When he was engaged in conversation, I decided to take the opportunity to slip to the bar and grab another cocktail.  As I squeezed by, he called me out for walking past without talking to him.  I made some comment along the lines of the bar calling my name.  

When I returned from the bar just a few short minutes later, he was suddenly all alone.  I told him I wasn’t ignoring him, I was just getting a drink.  We chatted for a few minutes before he decided to join some of our friends on trip to get pizza.  I passed and said goodbye.  He once again made a push for me to be at our social engagement.  I stuck with my maybe.  

I want to go!  I want to be around him, but I can’t.  I can’t control the word vomit that comes out of my mouth when I have had one too many glasses of wine.  I can’t help but want to pull him into me by the ends of his bow tie when he leaves it hanging, untied, from his collar.  I do still find him incredibly charming, and that is why I wasn’t ready to see him.   

Right now, thinking about it ties me in knots.  I didn’t want him to act like he misses seeing me, or being mad that I walked by without talking to him.  I want to be mad, I am mad, but why do I feel like I want to cry?  I know he doesn’t mean what I want him to by the things he says.  He doesn’t miss me, he misses the attention I have always given him.  Yet, I miss him.  Things come up that I want to talk to him about, but I can’t.  Tuesdays are the worst.  

I find things to do on Tuesdays so I don’t feel so tempted to go and see him.  Whether it is the gym or making dinner for friends, I keep busy.  One day Tuesday will be just another day with no significance, but that day isn’t this Tuesday.  

Epiphany

It is funny when epiphanies happen.  It is always at the oddest times and in the most inopportune places.  Yesterday I had an epiphany in the middle of Zumba class.  I have been trying to date the same guy my whole life.  D is a Liam, who was an Adam, who was also a Bryan, who was ultimately a Caleb (See the Many Loves of My Life … for reference).  The reason why I feel so comfortable with each of these guys is that I have been trying to date a version of them since I was 13 years old.  

I try to act like I am so evolved and my life is so different now than it was in college, but it really isn’t.  I have one bar that I go to more than any other, and I am friends with the people that work there.  I am continuing to chase an unattainable boy that, no matter how much I think we click, will never end up dating me.  I fake confidence, because deep down I am one big insecure mess.  I have been since the day I got glasses in the 2nd grade, or had to shoot free throws granny style in the 3rd, and got called fat for the first time in the 4th. I heard the boys in college refer to me as Bee’s fat friend.  It is very hard to feel good about yourself when people have been telling you your whole life that you have no reason to.  I am still the scared girl that went home in tears everyday in the 3rd grade.  The girl that’s mother held her back so she wouldn’t be picked on anymore.  

No matter how much I try to pretend that none of that matters anymore, I still find myself searching for other people’s approval, and especially approval from the men in my life.  I make out with a boy just to prove that I can.  I sleep with practical strangers, but I barely kiss the people that I love.  I play the part

of the bombshell, because it is easier than being the vulnerable self-imploding mess that is me.  

I really want to change.  I don’t want to hide under layers of spanxs and red lipstick.  I don’t want to continue my vicious cycle of unhealthy, one sided relationships.  I want to stop being selfish and making my grand dramatic speeches, because they are selfish.  I say them so that I feel better, and I don’t think about how much harder they probably make things for the people I give them too.  

I live in this big, wonderful city filled with so many people I have never met.  I am going to go out and meet more of them.  I am going to try new bars, and make new friends.  I am going to stop complaining about how much I hate my body, and I am going to actually work to change it.  Holding back on here is not an option anymore, because when I do I lose my outlet for my crazy.  I am going to actually give myself a chance to heal my heart too.  I am never going to be able to find someone that makes me happy, that can give me all of them if I am not whole myself.  It is time for me to take back my heart from D, Liam, Adam, Bryan, Caleb and any other guy that has undeservingly held a piece of it.    

I am always saying that  I am going to change parts of my life and never do.  This time I mean it.  This time I see that I am the only person keeping myself from being happy.  It is not some cosmic plot to make me miserable.  I was watching “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” and there was a part that really resonated with me.  Sam is crying and she asks Charlie why we let the people in our lives treat us like shit.  He answers, “We accept the love that we think we deserve.”

I am not going to sit in my studio and let myself get lonely or feel sorry for myself any longer.  I am stronger than I realize.  My imperfections are what make me beautiful.  The following two quotes are my inspiration for self confidence, my crutch to lean on, and the motos I should live life by.  

The Truth Hurts

I might have just fucked up my life.  I never thought I would say it in words, but I did.  I just told a boy with a girlfriend that I loved him, and I just fucked my life up.  

I don’t know how to move on from this.  I don’t know how to love another, but at the end of the day, I loved him.  I lost my job 2 weeks ago.  I thought I would recover, but instead I fell apart.  Everything seems to be falling apart.

I am so lost after telling the truth, and I never thought about what I would say afterwards.  All I had to do was keep pretending, and I couldn’t.  Why couldn’t I keep pretending?    

I would rather lay on top of the covers and feel the cold that my heart is also feeling.  I am breaking again.  I know it wasn’t right of me to say it.  I know he made his choice months ago, a year ago, but my heart never walked away.  No matter how much I told it to, no matter how much my head ventured away, my heart stayed with the situation that could never make it happy, a boy with a girlfriend.  

I didn’t love him when he kissed me.  I didn’t love him in February when he got jealous and told me so.  I can not pinpoint the moment that I started loving him, but somewhere along the way I let myself fall.  I realized it for the first time when I thought he was single in July, when I thought I may actually have a shot to see how he really feels about me.

I never meant to say it out loud.  It’s all a little hazy.  I don’t even know exactly what I said; I just know I shouldn’t have said it.  I didn’t want to lose him in my life and that is exactly what I just did.  He wants to make our friendship work, but at the end of the day, I don’t know if it ever can.  The not-so-simple truth is I do love him.  I want to stop. I need to stop.  Someone tell me how to stop.  

If I could tell him one more thing, it would be that I am so sorry!  I am so sorry that I said those words.  I wish I could take them back.  I wish I could take it all back! I wish we could start all over from the beginning.

Relationship Girl?

I am a relationship girl who is never in a relationship.  In college, no one ever wanted me to be their girlfriend.  When you go to a school notorious for being the beauty queen school, it’s hard to stand out.  Even though I am the kind of girl you’d want to take home to mom, I never landed a boyfriend.  Instead, I ended up having one night stands and fuck buddies to ease the loneliness.  I loved twice in college, neither of them were people I dated.  In true Harper fashion, they were just very complicated, very emotionally-charged, very fucked-up friendships.  For instance, this guy and I continued to say, “I love you” to each other for over a year and a half, yet we were never “together”.  My love life in DC has not been much better.  Outside of the complicated situation with D, I’ve loved once.  The details of these relationships are irrelevant now.  What is relevant is the fact that I want a real relationship at this point in my life.  I want the small things; I deserve to know what they are like.  

I look forward to the day when a guy can’t wait to wake up next to me.  I mean a weekday, when morning sex is not in the picture, and I probably have on an oversized t-shirt.  He should be just as excited to start his day with me as I am with him.  He will know that I like to cuddle as I fall asleep, separate in the middle of the night, and as morning comes find my way back to him.    

I look forward to making space in the medicine cabinet and the closet for him to leave a few things.  I will even keep old-fashioned, non-flowery soap in the shower so he doesn’t smell girly when he goes to work.  I will throw some of his laundry in with mine, but he is on his own when it comes to ironing.  I will even cook him dinner, but he better help with the dishes.     

I want Sundays on the couch watching football together, even if we are pulling for different teams.  It’s okay if we fight over what to buy at the grocery store, what movie to watch, or whether to order red or white wine with dinner.  Perfection is not reality and I am just looking for reality.   

He will know so much about me, like I am cranky when I am hungry, and he should give me juice when I am hungover.  I sometimes snore in my sleep, but he should never bring that up.  If he leaves the toilet seat up, I will get pissed.  I know I am high-maintenance, and that is never going to change.  I paint my nails about 3 times a week and am useless for about an hour afterwards.  I watch a lot of television, and some pretty bad television at that.  I am who I am.  It took me a very long time to figure out and accept myself.  I am only looking for people in my life that support who I am.  I know my quirks may aggravate him sometimes, and I know we will fight.  Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you like them all the time, and that's okay.   

Everywhere I look, I see people in relationships, but I don’t know how they end up in them.  What makes them more worthy of Sunday brunch and pillow talk?  I am 25 and have never been in a real, adult relationship.  Is it too late for me?  Have I reached the point where I am not long-term relationship worthy?  Do the relationship types look at me and know that I have no idea what I am doing?  Will I ever be someone’s girlfriend?   

Goodbye for Now ...

Sometimes goodbyes are forever, sometimes they are see you soon, and sometimes they are something a little more gray than that.  Last night D and I sat down sober for a frank conversation.  I went in planning to say goodbye forever but walked away with a goodbye until I am better.  

My friends made me feel like I had no choice but to shut D out completely.  Their intervention email felt more like an ultimatum.  It felt like I would loose them if I didn’t do what they thought was best.  Their method felt cold and like an attack, but I know it came from a good place, a place of love and concern.  At the end of the day I had to do what I felt comfortable with.  I know they didn’t think I should talk to D, but I couldn’t walk away without some answers.  If I did I would have always had what ifs and I would never have been able to get over my feelings for him.  I did what I had to do for me.  I hope one day they will understand that.  If not understand than at least respect my decision.

As we sat at the little table at Starbucks I didn’t know where to begin.  “Tell me about her” was the only place I could think to start.  As he described her his eyes lit up, the way I use to think they did when he saw me, but this was the real deal.  He really loves her.  It was in that moment that I knew I didn’t have to say goodbye forever.  I am not sure why that is the conclusion I came to, but it is one that I still feel good about.  The goodbye letter I had in my purse didn’t apply any more.

He answered every question, even the hard ones like had he ever cheated before.  The answer to that is no.  I was not some girl in a slew of other drunken mistakes.  I never thought he was that kind of guy, but I have been wrong before.  I know that this doesn’t make the fact that he cheated at all any better, but for me I just felt less cheap.

He took responsibility for his part in all of this, and so did I.  I was not an innocent party and I know that.  I understand his personality better, that he never meant to lead me on and by no means had malicious intentions.  He let me talk, let me bare my soul.  I think we both have a better understanding of each other and had our first real conversation as friends.  Our topics were varied and I let myself be open.  I saw why I have liked him so much, but I also saw why I think he might be right about being friends.

I had to make a decision.  I told him I would be staying away from our weekly social engagement that put us in the same place.  He said he knew that that time with my friends is so important to me and he hates for me to give that up.  Per his suggestion he is going to let me know the weeks that he won’t be there for as long as I need.  

D was very adamant the whole time that he really thought we could be friends.  I told him I just needed time to get my shit together.  I know in time my feelings will fade and what will be left is possibly a wonderful friendship.  Who knows, one day he could be that friend that I call for a guys opinion on a situation.  

My feelings for him, my attraction to him, is not going to fade overnight.  It may be a month or 6 months before I am really ok.  Though, I know I am in a much better place than I was in before we sat down and talked.  That was the hardest conversation I have ever had with someone, but I also feel like I just grew a lot because I was adult enough to have it.  

So, this is goodbye to D as all of you know him.  For me it is goodbye to D for now.  When I am ready, if I am ever ready, his friendship will be waiting for me. 

Quarter Life Crisis

I have quarter-of-a-century confusion.  The dreaded day when I truly become in my mid-twenties is just a week away.  My sense of life failure is starting to settle in.  Where I thought I would be at 25, and where I am are worlds apart.  I was supposed to be getting married to an incredible Southern gentleman, have an incredible job, and live in an incredible house.  Sadly, there are times when I feel that there is nothing incredible about my life, besides my incredible friends.

To be a single 25 year-old Southern woman is like being 40 living with 10 cats elsewhere in the country.  People start to wonder why no one seems to wants you.  You start to wonder yourself. I am a little lonely.  At 25 I was supposed to be waking up next to the person I love everyday, not my teddy bear.  (I have no shame in the fact that I still sleep with a Teddy bear.)

Sure, I am not married, or dating anyone.  Sure, my job is not what I thought it would be, and I am looking for a new one.  Sure, my rent is too high, but my apartment is pretty nice.  How could I know at 18 what I would want now?  It’s not that I don’t want all of the things I thought I would have, and just because I don’t have them at 25 doesn’t mean that I won’t find them eventually.  I know that.

There is one aspect that I wish I could change, one of which I am truly ashamed.  I am hung up on someone else's boyfriend.  When it comes to D, I hate that I cannot walk away.  The fact that seeing him makes my heart pound disgusts me.  Knowing that everyday I wish for his relationship to end pains me.  I am 25, and I still want this toy I can’t have.  Even though I know it’s not that black and white, I can’t help but fear that this is why I am alone.  This is why I am lonely.  I am not saying that I think he is the end-all-be-all, but I don’t know if I could ever find that person, if I still have the feelings for D that I have right now.

At 25, my heart was not supposed to break everyday.  

I know turning 25 is not the end of the world, and I should welcome my mid-twenties with grace.  I am sure my party is going to be a blast.  I love my birthday dress.  I have so many things to look forward to.  This year will be different for me, it has to be. 

Him

Have you ever had that boy you just can’t shake?  No matter how awful he has been you still talk to him.  Its not that you love him, but you just can’t NOT be attracted to him.  I have one of those boys in my life right now.  I had a crush on him for months and then he finally bought me a drink, walked me home, and kissed me.  There were flirty texts, some more kissing, and then of course the bomb - he has a girlfriend.  Our social calendars put us in the same place once a week and it is torture.

I look at him and I can’t help but think about kissing him.  Why do I do that?  He has a girlfriend yet one look from him and my whole body reacts.  The look in his eyes makes my heart hurt.  I wish I could shake him, shake the want, shake the heartbreak that he ensues.  Everytime I think I am over it he pulls me back in.  He gets jealous or he flirts and I am right back where we started.  Sometimes I wish I was the kind of girl that didn’t care about a man’s relationship status.  But I am not. The guilt I feel from just flirting with him is stifling sometimes.  I could drown in the hurt and self loathing.  

I wish I knew what he was thinking, what he is feeling.  It's hard not knowing what someone that you think about all the time is actually thinking about you.  Do they ever even think about you at all? It makes me hate him, but yet not enough to stay away.  How come I can’t stay away?  

I didn’t even know I found glasses sexy. That damn bow tie!  When he unties it, leaving it hanging from his collar, it is my achilles heel.  I want to grab it and pull him into me by the tie.  Even though it has been months, our steamy make out session on my front steps flashes through my thoughts frequently.  I even sometimes think I can still feel the stinging of my swollen lips when my mind transports me back.  

What is worse than anything else is the thought of not seeing him.  I hate the idea of him not being there every week.  I am a masochist.  I would rather torture myself than not have him look at me with that spark in his eye.  Sometimes I wonder if it is all in my head, if he really just looks at me the way he looks at everyone else.  The reality is I was just a mistake for him.  Months ago when I was skinnier, he made the mistake of kissing me.  He is my weakness and I am his mistake.  I can’t believe I just said that, admitted that.  

I will one day shake him I am sure.  I will find someone to kiss me and mean it.  When I do he will not put me through turmoil.  I will not drown in self loathing.  I will just be happy, someday.