ihavebeenfloated

Why can’t I just be allowed to be happy?

Why is it every time that I meet someone or something, they have to be so indecisive about me? Three relationships, now, where the girls were like, “Yeah, I like you, but… Uh… Let me think about it.”

All the arrogance and self-confidence in the world can’t prepare you for how fucking shitty it is to be tossed around, back and forth, back and forth. One minute you’re worth the whole world, and the next you’re a piece of crap. Each person likes you and dislikes you for different reasons, so you never know if it’s really you that is fucked up, or if it is them. Are relationships just like this for people these days? Is it such a high stakes game that there needs to be days, weeks, months of negotiations and deliberations? How does it make sense?

Do people just not fall in love anymore? Is there no such thing as head-over-heels? Or, do I just chase after women who are so broken they don’t have any concrete concept of love? And even if they did feel it, for me, it is too scary or foreign or impossible to deal with that they can’t cope with it?

It’s not hard for me. I talk to someone, I get to know them, I run my hands over their hands and then it’s done. Either I like them, or I don’t. Either I’ll fight for them, or I won’t. There is never any gray area for me, no deliberations or negotiations, no hemming and hawing, nothing. I don’t need days, weeks, months to decide whether or not I want to be with someone.

Why can’t I just find someone like me? Someone who can just decide, solidly, that I am worth being with?

I asked Trista if I was just too fucked up for someone to like. She was with me for about a year, so she should know.

She told me, “I’m sure there is someone out there able to tolerate your amount of ass.”

Not very reassuring, but at least there is someone.

Fuck.

I’m just… tired. I just want to curl up in bed with someone and fall asleep. I can’t deal with this sort of thing. I naturally spiral up and down over the course of months, I can’t take doing it multiple times a week. It’s as if small pieces of my heart are broken, mended, and broken again, ad infinitum.

You, you need to come here and spend time with me, in bed, sleeping, now. I wish I could look over my shoulder and see you there, waiting for me to finish clacking away at the keyboard so I can climb into bed next to you. It is unfair that you are not.