He wasn’t a character I normally liked. Then again, I fall in love with people so fast it’s almost a joke. A slight change in the weather, a smile in September; before I know it, I am hooked.
I knew it wasn’t love, it was nothing like it. He had a way of making butterflies flutter out of the dark caves of my soul, and I liked it. I had closed myself off of male attention for so long, that any attention made my heart skip a beat. The more I tried to place him, the further he would get away. I wait too long for people that don’t exist. He was no exception. When you wait too long for things to happen, you start making up stories in your mind. Maybe thats what this all was. My crazy mind getting the best of me.
I am crazy. I am absolutely crazy. I know nothing about him, but I can’t stop thinking about him. This is how crazy people think, right? This is how it starts when your mind starts to go? I can’t stop myself. I find myself jumping right back in, after I promised myself I would keep myself 10 steps back. Here I am standing on the ledge between reality and make believe. I am a rational person. I am crazy but I am not bat-shit crazy. I know the difference between whats right and whats completely stupid/foolish/wrong for me?
Here I am standing in front of the man that could possible change my whole life. The man that ignited the spark after the years of broken solitude and sadness.
I can’t help but look at him.
Boy, is he something. It was a spark, a break in the melody that I would die to hear on constant repeat. A drum beat that kept my heart in constant motion.
I should have known better. Should have seen all the red flags, paid absolute attention to all the signs, but I didn’t. You never know who you will open yourself up too. Never know who your heart will decide gets the keeping. I am crazy to think that stupid sparks mean something. Including when everything feels one sided.
I always end up the girl in the pretty dress that cries at the end of the story. The girl that makes up all these weird scenarios of “what if” and breaks her own foolish heart in the end.
But maybe this was different.
I mean. Why else did he keep coming back?
“I just need to be alone for a while”
Of course he does. He wants to put an end to the narrative that hasn’t even started. Everybody needs to be alone for a while. But nobody really wants to be alone, right?
I feel myself screaming on the inside.
“Give me a chance. Choose me! Look at me!”
Now I am sitting in the pretty dress, wondering what I did wrong. If I did anything wrong at all. If my crazy fucked up mind got the best of my reality.
Why is it when shit starts to get real, men just want to back track. Like they weren’t hitting you up at all hours of the night. Like they weren’t asking all these personal questions, pretending to be invested. Only to need to be alone.
“You understand what I mean right? You’re alone”
I seem to bring that out of men. This breath of honesty that men can’t help but exhale out, and I can’t help but inhale in. He just happened to be no exception. It becomes natural for men to be so brutally honest with me, like we are the best of friends. That talking with me is like talking with one of their bros. I wonder if thats what they think of me. Just one of their bros, their friends, their buddies. After a while, I don’t know who to blame anymore. Is it my fault for being quiet about how I feel? Or their fault for assuming I am no different then they are.
Its been months since we’ve talked but I couldn’t rid him from my brain. I keep replaying the same image of us. Me the dreamer, him the realist. Me, believing that he would see through my armor. He, just feeling this need to be alone. I knew it was a lost cause. I knew deep down inside that everything was a no-go. But curiosity got the best of me. Because why are people that are not meant to be together, keep coming back together again. Even if it means nothing, why did the spark hit me like a lightening bolt?
It had to mean something.
Then the water works start to form. I become the girl I have come to know and fear and hate and just can’t stop myself from becoming. What in the fuck is wrong with me that men feel the need to be alone to find themselves. That I am some sort of stop on the way to their destiny. Are they aware that the manic-pixie dream girl died for men years ago; that we as females can be the heroes of our own story??
I don’t want to be the girl that got away.
I don’t want to be the girl you marry at the end of the day.
What in the fuck is wrong with the “right now”?
This “alone” time ends up being everyone else but me.
I start seeing images of him with someone new, every few weeks. I am not a factor in his mind until it doesn’t work out. Then like clockwork, he comes back. Maybe a second look would do the trick. Maybe, I am what they want in the long run, but just not right now. Not right away.
Meanwhile I sit here, miserable. Asking myself, what did I do wrong?
Everybody wants everybody else.
Someone prettier with their shit together.
Someone imperfectly perfect to their own liking.
Is it too much to want the same thing everyone else wants?
Seriously, why the fuck not me?
Yeah you go ahead, be by yourself.
Me too, dude. Me too.
Oakland, CA. 2013