It being twinnyleven I used the Facebook instead of actual talking or writing a letter or whatever people used to do. I sent a message to this guy that I'm afraid to like.
Maybe the problem with talking to him or saying anything is the writer that lives inside me and wants to edit everything before the recipient receives the message.
I hate talking to people sometimes because I can't edit. I suppose that I don't misspell words when I'm talking, but that's small consolation.
In the end I think I'm happy with what I wrote. Now I get to enter that period of waiting, hoping that he sees things similarly to how I see them. I get to hope that he likes me and that I haven't frightened him off. He takes my phone calls, so that's good, but I just don't trust myself.
I really do manage to fuck things up more than you might realize. I'm probably ruining something right now even though all I'm doing is typing words and trying to manage to convey thoughts. It's kinda how I roll.
And now all I can do is wait.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
not trying equals not doing
I feel like I'm setting myself up for a big let down again.
There's this guy, and he's nice and sweet and hot, and I kinda like him. I kinda like him because I'm not letting myself get too far into this thing, but I also can't help feeling stuff and thinking things.
He lives just far enough away so that the car thing is an issue, and that's compounded by him having his own car problems right now. It's a situation, and it probably sounds worse than it is, or maybe I'm making it sound less worse than it is.
The last time I liked a guy it kinda blew up in my face when he incredulously and vocally realized that I really did like him that way and really did want a boyfriend. It was kind of a moment, and it wasn't fun.
There's another guy who just wants to have fun. I've been there once, and I'm not entirely against the idea, but it just isn't where I want to be in life. It isn't the kind of person I want to be. But what I want and what I feel like I can have are so often completely at odds with each other.
And neither of these situations need to be where I am in life. The one that I'm actually worried about could be part of where I want to be, but it shouldn't be the key component. That's so much easier to say than it is to act on, which raises a whole other bunch of list of whatever.
I feel like I've covered this, but it's probably something I've written about but never published. There are probably a few drunken rants in my drafts file, rambling rants that need never see the light of pixelated day.
So what to do? It's late enough tonight that I'll probably just dig up some obscure Les Paul and Mary Ford on the Youtube, because that seems to be what I'm doing right now. I'll wade through all that's built up in Google reader, all the blogs that are just sitting there, patiently waiting for me.
It isn't going to help me figure anything out, and it will more likely just keep my mind occupied enough that I don't have to think too deeply about anything. It's the internets and like a drug that way. Maybe if I actually had some drugs I could forget about everything the right way, but for now I'll just think about the cute and sweet boy, and I'll begin to compose Facebook messages to him where I bare my soul. And then I'll click on "cancel" instead of "send."
It's easier that way. And I can drag out the enjoyment of possibility longer before I say something and fuck the whole thing up.
There's this guy, and he's nice and sweet and hot, and I kinda like him. I kinda like him because I'm not letting myself get too far into this thing, but I also can't help feeling stuff and thinking things.
He lives just far enough away so that the car thing is an issue, and that's compounded by him having his own car problems right now. It's a situation, and it probably sounds worse than it is, or maybe I'm making it sound less worse than it is.
The last time I liked a guy it kinda blew up in my face when he incredulously and vocally realized that I really did like him that way and really did want a boyfriend. It was kind of a moment, and it wasn't fun.
There's another guy who just wants to have fun. I've been there once, and I'm not entirely against the idea, but it just isn't where I want to be in life. It isn't the kind of person I want to be. But what I want and what I feel like I can have are so often completely at odds with each other.
And neither of these situations need to be where I am in life. The one that I'm actually worried about could be part of where I want to be, but it shouldn't be the key component. That's so much easier to say than it is to act on, which raises a whole other bunch of list of whatever.
I feel like I've covered this, but it's probably something I've written about but never published. There are probably a few drunken rants in my drafts file, rambling rants that need never see the light of pixelated day.
So what to do? It's late enough tonight that I'll probably just dig up some obscure Les Paul and Mary Ford on the Youtube, because that seems to be what I'm doing right now. I'll wade through all that's built up in Google reader, all the blogs that are just sitting there, patiently waiting for me.
It isn't going to help me figure anything out, and it will more likely just keep my mind occupied enough that I don't have to think too deeply about anything. It's the internets and like a drug that way. Maybe if I actually had some drugs I could forget about everything the right way, but for now I'll just think about the cute and sweet boy, and I'll begin to compose Facebook messages to him where I bare my soul. And then I'll click on "cancel" instead of "send."
It's easier that way. And I can drag out the enjoyment of possibility longer before I say something and fuck the whole thing up.
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