Tag Archives: romance

Dancing

Emotions suck.

Like, I spend ninety percent of my time thinking about them when I should be thinking about other things.

Oh snap, I thought about the emotions so much that I forgot I left my ukulele in the trunk of my Mom’s car…

Anyway, if I keep thinking about these emotions I’m probably going to wind up crying, so maybe I should write them out of my system.

I’d write them out of system and into a text to compose and send to the male who is inspiring me to have all these emotions, but that would probably just result in more emotions, and there are too many of them already.

Here’s what I have to say: for the past five months I’ve been friends with a guy who I spend time with off and on, and I’ve started composing many posts on him and related to him and then stopped, because I don’t want to obsess, and I’m paranoid that somehow too many details will find themselves in the sea of the internet leading back to him.

I like to play it relatively, obsessively, safe.

Recently, however, this friendship became even more confusing.

Like, we keep almost going on dates/spending time alone together, and while I don’t mind the friendship, a couple nights ago we went out dancing with a female friend of mine.

And he and I danced, and it was fun, and then at some point there was some super romantic-partner up and dance for real music playing, which I didn’t recognize, and he pulled me into his arms and we danced like one of the forty super romantic couples surrounding us.

And it confused me.

I am confused.

I am so incredibly confused.

And I want to ask him what was up with that but when the first dance ended he gestured to another couple who was still dancing in the super romantic way, and indicated he was merely imitating them, and I let it drop as some sort of anomaly of dance, of our friendship. He merely pulled me into his arms so romantically because he was dancing, and it’s what all the couples were doing.

Time passed, we danced other friend-like dances, we danced in other rooms, we danced with other people, and at some point we found ourselves back in the room of couples dancing ridiculously close together, and he pulled me into another dance.

And later, when guys asked me to dance and whether he was my boyfriend or I was his girlfriend, he said “no, she’s single” and sent me off to dance with the strangers.

I’m a little bit hurt…I probably shouldn’t be, I definitely shouldn’t be, we’re friends and we danced, but I’ve never danced that close to a guy before, to anyone, and now I can’t stop thinking about him and I hate him a little bit for it, and I don’t even think he cares.

I don’t even know if I want him to care in that way.

I just wish he would’ve warned me before he pulled me into that dance.

I’m all obsessed and it’s because of a stupid dance.

And we’re entirely not together, and I don’t know what to say or what not to say, whether to tell him that dancing with girls like that is confusing, and that I’m confused now, or whether to say nothing and just let the pain and emotions sit until they hopefully just go away.

Because we danced, and then I saw him once more after that and he gave me and my friend a totally innocent hug, and he hasn’t contacted me since. But he rarely contacts me.

SO I NEED TO FORGET ABOUT HIM.

But I also want to just yell at him for making me like him.

Like a teenager. Do teenagers even do that? I feel like I’m as lost as I would be if I was a teenager going out with some other random teenager.

I thought people were mature when you grew up and just let you know that they liked you.

I thought they had courage to tell you how they were really feeling.

I thought they had the strength to not pull you into dances that will misdirect your feelings and imply that they feel more than they do.

I thought they had the courtesy to let you know that they were falling and that by going out dancing with them you are pretty much going on a date with them and basically, flippin’ tell the girl you like her rather than inviting her out, dancing with her like you like her, telling other guys she’s free to dance, and then looking sad when you let her go.

Did I mention he looked sad? It was the one small bit of information my friend provided for me, for when she and him were sitting alone talking and I was dancing with the stranger my guy friend told me to dance with.

…There is so much here that I shouldn’t be evaluating, because life shouldn’t be so focused on romance, should it? Like, I have school, I have friends, I have health problems, I have friends with health problems, I have God, and pushing its way past all these important things is my stupid little heart going “DOES HE LIKE ME? DOES HE LIKE ME???” and “WHAT DOES IT MEAN!???” and “I AM SO ALONE.”

It freakin’ sucks and it makes no sense and I’m blaming biology and wanting to curse it, because I don’t even know if he cares, and if he cares then he’s doing a crummy job of showing it, and if does such a bad job caring then I shouldn’t care about him.

So my logical mind and my close friends tell me to forget him and move on, and that stupid heart supported by emotions and hormones is just keeps beating me up about it, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

Because I’ve never been good at making my Heart stop yelling at me, until I get distracted by some new crush…but I’m tired of being distracted by crushes. The endless barrage on my emotions hurts too much.

I probably have too much free time. If I fill up every second of time with activity then there’s no time to dwell on love…

Gah.

 

Pray for me.

Thanks.

 

 

 

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Sad tea-cups

…are those with almond milk in them instead of real milk.

Also, 5 minutes after posting my update about my friend with cancer having a smaller tumor, I got a text from her asking me to pray for her because she was in the worst pain yet. At two am, after I’d gotten two hours of sleep and inexplicably woke up, she contacted me again and we talked and she seemed to be better. I then stayed up til some crazy hour, and then woke up and had a fairly pleasant day. Knowing your friend is not as bad off as she was right before you went to bed that night has a way of making days better.

In other totally non-consequential news:

I might have gone on two dates with two different guys in the last two weeks, but nobody ever calls anything a date anymore so I really have no idea, but I kind of think one of the guys almost tried to kiss me judging by the strange pause at the end of the night just after we arrived at my car and took out my keys to leave. That would definitely put the second hang out in the “date” category, but the pause could have also simply been awkwardness. Who knows? I definitely don’t.
When you don’t go around kissing people you have no idea when you are in a kissing-people situation or not.

That’s my life.

P.S. Continued prayers for my friend are appreciated. Prayers for all totally confused young people who don’t know if they are on dates or not are also appreciated.

P.P.S. I have no idea how to balance talking about my feelings about my friend with cancer with my feelings about the rest of my life, as they are completely different segments of my life. However, the way life works is that everything just kinda gets shoved together and it is your life, and sometimes, 60-70 years later, you look back on it and maybe you see patterns, and then you write nice little uniform books about the experiences, or maybe sell the movie rights or whatever…But that doesn’t happen in the middle of the experience, when everything is happening at once and you don’t know what’s important and what’s not besides what you think about it in the moment. It is from this disjointed reality that my blog posts are born. In fifty to sixty years maybe I’ll write a book. For now you get the mess to make sense or nonsense of all on your own. Have fun!

 

 

 

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Pondering what I didn’t do on Thanksgiving…

“Yes, I’m introducing you to my family strictly to get their opinion of you. What you do and say does matter and you are being judged for it. The outcomes of this meeting could either make or break our relationship. Good luck!”

I’d like to go back in time to when this was acceptable and use my family as a screen for potential suitors. Oh wait, that is totally still acceptable, right?

I’d like to find the guy that I’m comfortable enough around to say this too, and for him to totally understand my degree of seriousness, and rush into the task of meeting my family headlong.

I don’t trust the opinion of every single one of my family members when it comes to suitor potential, but I definitely think some of them would have something good to say, and a potential suitor would have to meet their minimal requirements in order for me to truly accept them.

…Or maybe I’d just accept them and then my family’s approval would just be the cherry on top of being happily in love.

It’d be nice to be happily in love.

 

 

 

 

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ODR: Guys shouldn’t be allowed to wear tank tops.

I probably shouldn’t be dictating rules about what people are and are not allowed to wear, but seriously:

Either 1, they look horrible in them, or 2, their muscles show and all you can do is gawk at their arms.

This is a lose-lose situation in my mind.

Am I ridiculous? I might be ridiculous.

But I don’t want to be distracted by the unattractiveness or attractiveness of a man’s arms.

Oh my goodness, I’m ridiculous.

OKOKOK, Maybe if you’re a guy and you’re just hot -temperature wise-, so you’re wearing a tank top…I suppose.

But seriously…Any one else think…no..

It’s just me, isn’t it?

And it’s just this particular ex-crush.

..and the fact that I need any reason to blame him for being adorable

…so that I don’t like him anymore..

things wrong….with…my…mind.

Grah.

Okay, I must merely accept the fact that this particular man has fairly attractive arms, and there is nothing wrong with accepting that. Except that that is a ridiculous thing to be attracted to.

I am attracted to muscular arms.

Wow.

These are details about me that no one ever needs to know.

I should never have started this post.

Or maybe I’m simply revealing the fact that once you like someone, you’ll find a million other reasons to like them.

Like, they have nice arms.

Because that’s totally the first thing to look for in a significant other.

Not.

But it is something you will notice when you already like someone. Maybe.

I dunno.

Now, proceed to rant and rave below about how ridiculous I am.

-me

(Thoughts from September of 2014)

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Filed under ODR: Old Drafts Revisited, Various writing

ODR: Thank you

(Unpublished draft From January 16, 2014)

I don’t suppose you need to know this, but I’ll just tell you, I’ve never been on a date before.
I went to an all girls high school, my only relationship with a guy lasted part of a week, and I spend most of my time wishing someone would pay attention to me rather than having someone pay attention to me.
I am not perfect.

Yet, through some odd twist of life, I wound up invited to dine with a gentleman yesterday evening.

My siblings asked all the right, over-protective questions, my Mom instructed me on defending myself with my elbow, “the strongest bone in your body”, and I left the house reasonably assured that someone was going to attempt to kidnap me.
My fears were unwarranted.

I never had a guy like me before without me feeling like there was some ulterior motive. Like he secretly wanted to appear special, or was just lonely, or something…
But this guy was different. Or maybe he’s like all guys that I misjudge before giving them a chance.

I went on my first date to a sushi restaurant, and he paid, carried my box of leftovers that I was too nervous to eat back to the car, politely drove me home, gave me a hug goodbye, and thanked me for a lovely night.

It was a lovely night.

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Beautifully Rejected.

The most beautiful thing

I saw today

was a baby’s laugh,

God in my presence,

and your eyes, ever smiling, staring at me with a look that brought back images of that child and God’s glory all in one.

The beauty of my heart is that it is so easily touched by love.

The tragedy of my heart is that it is so easily touched by love.

Three months ago I wouldn’t have cared. Three months ago, I lie. When did you see me and ask me how I was, look into my eyes and notice the pain I wouldn’t share, and try to soothe my soul?

Why didn’t I let you?

Because I can’t let people in.

I can’t share the pain and the heart, because then I want you to be a greater part of this life, and you don’t want to be.

I could have done it, could have let whatever was broken be shared, and potentially repaired by your craftsman hands, and slowly fallen deeper into admiration of you, but I would have gotten stuck.

Stuck in the love and wanting to be love and be a part of something, while you were just being kind.

So I share too much with strangers, but not enough, and then when friends come by I let the heart remain untouched.

True, is this true? How much is true…

I attempt to guard my heart from the inevitable fall, and I lose myself in the process.

Shutting myself off to the love, I curl up and cry.

Giving too much of myself and being rejected, I feel like I want the feeling heart to die.

So I lose and I lose, and I don’t know if I’ll win,

or if I’ll just fall and break my own heart again.

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Fickle

My heart is too fickle.

I still miss John.

(In fact, I’m resisting the urge to send him a message right now that thinly veils that fact while attempting to strike up some sort of innocent conversation.)

Maybe I just miss writing songs with him and laughing at his jokes and our mutual friendship that I killed by a proclamation of love?

I guess that would include missing him.

I started writing songs last August inspired by the stupidity of my heart and various crushes that I wanted to get over in some way.

In ten months I’ve written more than twelve songs. I say more than twelve, because of my endless musical ramblings and song attempts, only twelve decent songs came out that were good enough for the outside world. Twelve that weren’t complete mush and heartbroken unrequited love songs that nobody else would enjoy.

It’s enough for a cd.

John said he would help me record a cd once…

But that was before we stopped talking like friends do.

Now my only consolation is a guy half-way across the world that I’m realizing I have very little in common with, besides our faith in Jesus and appreciation of the English language, and the acquaintance who invited me to jam with him at his friend’s house after I hadn’t seen him for five months. I declined the invitation. It seemed unwise to go to a near complete stranger’s houses in the middle of the night all by myself. Since that declined invitation, the man in question has been politely chatting with me for a few minutes every open mic night. For some reason I haven’t taken the same liking to him that I did to John, or at least I don’t trust him as much. Perhaps it’s because he’s several years older than John and several inches taller. Perhaps it’s because I hung out with John for several hours every week. Actually, no, it’s probably just the fact that I know I could probably take John in a fight. Or at least, severely injure him and escape. This is possibly one of the reasons why John didn’t encourage any more than a friendship between us. I am blessed with the gift of height. John is not. He also weighs probably a good 30 to 40 pounds less than me….and I’m actually rather slender… And so, the moral of the story is not to have guy friends that are physically smaller than you, because if you ever get a crush on them, they will be self-conscious and intimidated by your height and stature and will leave you broken hearted and pining after their stupidity.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed that moral lesson.

 

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