I don't like boys
anymore. I don't like the way that they sneak up
on you when you're not looking for them, and then when you decide to go out looking for them, they suddenly decide they're not interested
. I feel like I'm banging my head against the wall
(and the only way I can get a cute male to look at me twice is if I'm unconscious
, I guess). I'm so tremendously lonely
and it seems the only way to remedy this is to find myself a nice boy
. But I can't go out looking for one because then they don't want me, and the only way I can forget about the internal turmoil
is to find one...(and the vicious cycle
But I can't look for a boy. I put up with what I have now. One came to my house today, like he always does when I ask him to (I only ask him when I'm feeling particularly sick inside, and he only comes when I truly want him to). We have a very flowery and freaky relationship going, though I'm still not sure what kind of boundaries there are in place until he or I steps on one particular landmine: what he's to expect from me and I'm to expect from him, etc. etc. He and I choke each other on a regular basis, and he likes to think he knows me better than I know myself (I'm not sure if it's true or not, and I can't honestly believe it is). Saving my soul is his mantra and claims that he loves me and I don't believe him.
Perhaps I'm mixing up "believing" with "reciprocating".
But we kiss and indulge each other and he would like me to tell people we're going out and that we have a relationship, but that's not the level we operate on. We're just two different people doing two different things for two completely different reasons. Except that we're both heartsick and neither of us knows what to do about it. He mistakes me as love and I mistake him for lust. So I guess if we're both confused it works out honestly.
I've come to the conclusion that I indulge myself in only a certain breed of the opposite sex. Case in point with this one young man: I've tried on two of his other college-bound friends for size and neither of them quite fit me correctly. The skinny redhead was much too tight and cut off my circulation and the aggressive curly haired boy was too loose and falling off my hips (they switched roles after the relationships, the former claiming he was "happy to get away" and the latter chattering "he'd kill me if I touched anyone else"). And I didn't believe that either was worth tailoring to be a correct fit.
So since the boy in the dreadlocks doesn't think I'm laid back enough to date, and the creeper at the comic book store will help me with my character sheets and nothing else, I'm still at ground zero, but my hormones are subdued. At least for the time being.