I promised myself I would never use this blog as a way to discuss real emotion. I've used to bitch and moan and whine about the state of the world because, quite frankly, lots of shiz just pisses me the eff off. I don't like it when people are late, I don't like close-minded douchebags that tell me how I should live my life, and I don't like James Blunt (dickhead). But my posts about those issues don't really matter - one online journal with one person's thoughts isn't going to change the world; so that's why it's so hard to discuss something that actually matters to me, that's personal, that's scary...
Until very recently (damn Italians, they.are.direct.) I can't remember the last time I was kissed. Well duh I've been kissed, lots of times, but what I mean is actually being the one who is kissed as opposed to the one who starts the kissing. 99% of the time first dates, boyfriends, or even random make-out guys at clubs (Hi spaghetti boy), I'm the one that leans in, taking that plunge, hoping they'll lean forward and kiss back. I'm either watching TV at his place on the couch, sitting on a tree that's grown crooked and creates a ledge over a river to sit on, or we've just watched a horrific movie and boom, I'm flooded with images of me leaning in, me getting those butterflies in my stomach, me getting paranoid a split second before the kiss that maybe he won't kiss me back and then it happens. And it's nice. And I laugh, or smile, or giggle, or say something stupidly flirty like "Your lips taste like cherries" or "What a fucked up movie, no?" or "Let's go to the bedroom" (ok, ok, that last one isn't flirty as it is slutty, but whatever).
I recently deleted all my online profiles in the hopes of getting out of a bad habit - see a nice guy online, write him a message, add him to my msn, chat some, go on a date, hit it off (or don't), kiss him goodnight (or don't), see him again (or don't). It got boring. It got tiresome, seeing all the same people online, all the time, putting up their best pictures in the best light in the hopes it attracts someone. Writing about their love of life and how they like open-minded, sweet guys with a kind smile; have you ever read a profile in which someone is looking for a close-minded pessimist with missing teeth and mean as shit?
It's been about a month since I've taken myself off the market and I don't feel any better, I just feel lonelier and I find myself thinking about the potential great, wonderful, terrific people I am not meeting because for some reason I have it in my head that this is best for me...for now.
Maybe this was just some word vomit (ah thank you Mean Girls) that needed to come out so that I can feel better about myself but now I feel worse. I guess I want to be desired. I want to be kissed. I want to be the one that gets the call for the second date. I want to be the thing acted on, not the one doing the acting. I want to feel like a song, I want to remind someone of a lyric, I want to be thought of. Fuck, even after some shit about real emotion, I still end up just whining.
