So back to men... I got to this point earlier this year where I had been so hurt with every relationship, ever that I just didn't even want to date. Anyone. I was done. I threw myself into work and a few hobbies and said good riddance. And I was pretty happy. Like really happy. Okay, I'm naturally happy most of the time...but I did not miss dating or sex or anything! Like at all. And it was awesome.
And then of course, yet again I fell into some horrible voodoo love spell because this is how this works. And of course it turned out I read the whole thing wrong and he was "just not that into me".
..which REALLY sucked when I was so content before and didn't even care and then BAM! I didn't even like him at first...in fact he annoyed the crap out of me. So tonight I find myself totally alone and holding this pathetic pity party and watching bad television. It's crazy, I'm crazy. I feel like I'm going crazy because this just happened again. Again!
Why do I even let myself care?
Because...and I'll tell you why...I truly, truly want to believe!
It's true. I do. I want the love story. The pathetic hearts and flowers together forever and we build a life together amazingness that has seemed to elude me for going on 35 years now. I want to believe that there is a man out there that I am attracted to that is fun and awesome and loves me back in a way that actually is love. Love. Like he doesn't lie to me or is not one way in front of some people and another way in front of other people. Love. Like he treats me the way every single nice girl on the planet deserves to be treated and he doesn't have some weird, sick, secret perversion. Love. Real love. Not where he thinks he owns me or tries to control me or tell me what to do all the time. Love, actual love. Love like best friends with life-long benefits kind of love and we are equal and we give to each other simply because we love each other kind of love. Love that means something and makes me want to be better because of how I feel when I'm with him...and he wants to be with me just as much kind of love. It exists, I know it! It has to. All this other crap, it's not worth it. It's stupid and it hurts too much and it sucks. I've been in too many crappy relationships and it's way too damn hard to go through one more. Not one more. I'm not doing it. I'm just not. Really. It's enough to make me want to just give up and just not think about love at all. Yet, I still also want to believe. Crazy. Crazy love. I believe in it. I believe I deserve it. To be loved like that and give love like that. And that exists. It has to. It has to for me, for everyone who believes in it.
So here's to the crazy ones who think like me. Who believe real love exists, that they deserve it and don't want any substitutes for it. You crazy ones, we're all crazy enough to believe we don't have to be stuck with anything less. It hurts to walk away from the less. Every damn time it really does. But it's less than love and that is not enough. And it makes it okay for me to sit here in sweats on a Saturday night, alone.