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5th October 2008
manyissuesali @ :
I love him. I've never even had a crush before, but I love him. He's perfect in every way (and everyone I've ever asked agrees) and I'm not perfect at all. But I love him, and I want to marry him, and have his babies, and kiss him in the rain, and just be with him--but he has her. And he loves her.
And that's the end of that.
(I was on the phone with my best friend when I was typing this. She's usually very supportive of the whole thing, but I've been so depressed lately that she got fed up. This is what she said, "It's just a high school crush, and it's only significant because it's your first. Life sucks. Deal with it. It isn't the end of the world just because he has a girlfriend. You've got to stop being so depressed because it's annoying me and I have it so much worse than you. So he has a girlfriend--"
And that's when I hung up.
She hasn't called back.)
14th July 2008
poppy_fairy @ : In love with a friend
A very good friend of mine for my now-complete five years of high school. He also has a kind, loving, supportive girlfriend whom I really do adore.
Sometimes I don't think it's utterly hopeless, because he's told me snatches of things, how he had a crush on me in eighth grade, how I'm pretty, or only half-jokingly "smoking hot"...but he has her, and he is happy with her, and I want him to be happy and I have no intention of trying to end their relationship.
I have told him nothing. Absolutely nothing. In five years I have given him absolutely no signs of my romantic affection at all. (I applaud myself at my self control, I really do).
He's attending the same university program as me next year, so it's not as if the end of high school is the ultimate end of us. But I don't know if anything will ever happen and if he will ever break up with her and I can't possibly wish that on him.
In the meantime, I think I'll just sit around and bitch.
25th April 2008
honig_haschen @ : About A Man Named Jay...
Well gee,I surmise I ought to begin when I met the guy I am hopelessly and so utterly deeply in love with. It was little over a year ago when I met 'Jay'. I was bored and roaming around Yahoo Chat,and I noticed no one had been talking at all to this one guy just lingering about the chatroom. My curiosity having been piqued,and happy with the thought of making a new friend,I approached him and struck up a conversation. Since then,he and I have been close,in fact,he claims I am the only one of the friends on his list he ever talks to now.If anyone had told me then and there that I would end up seeing him as more than a friend,and I don't mean just best friends either (although it is a sweet little lie that I will use to make myself feel better),I would have told them they were out of their skulls. Much to my surprise,several months into the friendship he and I had developed,I noticed that my feelings were begining to tread dangerously across that 'line not meant to be crossed'. Oh believe me,after recently escaping two unhealthy relationships (not at the same time of course) that same year I met him,I was unwilling to admit that I was in love with him. It isn't like there is anything wrong with him. On the contrary,Jay is as close to perfection as my unworthy hazel eyes have ever had the pleasure to look upon and my heart to know the warmth of his kindness.... It is an unbearable hell trying to keep my feelings bottled up inside like this. Ian,our mutual best friend with whom Jay lives with,is the only one I have confided in about this. I told him about how sometimes I try and lie to myself and say I feel only lust...but I'm not easily deceived,even by my own self. Sometimes,at night as I lay in bed trying to overcome my insomnia,I think of how wonderful it would be just to see him in person. It would be about as close to heaven as I would get...ever. I dream of what it would be like to be his girlfriend,to be near him...yes distance is a problem as well,being that I live in lovely old Texas and he lives way the hell up in Iowa. I wish I was as close to perfect as he said I am,maybe I'd have a chance. I think most of the notion about me not being able to have him is in my head,sometimes my heart tells me that he feels the same way too,Ian hints about it. I just don't want to get my hopes up,I don't want to get hurt anymore,forgive me if I sounded emo just then and there but that's just the truth. No matter how much I want to believe him when he says I am beautiful and sweet and all of these wonderful things that really describe him more than me,I can't believe him...I could...but I'm too afraid of what will happen if I trust his word more than I already do. Besides,when you fall in love with a best friend,things seem to get screwed up in the end and you end up hating eachother. For now,I will simply love him from a distance. Maybe he'll find someone who can make him happier than I would ever be able to make him,God knows he deserves it. However...when that happens,which it very well could,I will still continue to love him. It seems silly,but I already promised not to let a single solitary man other than him own my heart. I have the deep,sinking feeling that I'm going to be very lonely throughout my later years,more than I already am now.
On a side note...I find it simply ironic that my favorite flower,the Daffodil,is the flower of unrequited love.
14th July 2007
shi_tsu_re_n @ :
Like all the rest of you, I, too, love someone I can't have, only my guy doesn't have another girl.
I met Harry four years ago. Let me get the first big hurdle out of the way -- he's 47. I am 19.
For reasons I don't want to delve into, I know for a fact it's not age difference that separates us.
Anyway. I met Harry four years ago. We hung out a lot, etc, etc. I slowly realized that I was falling in love with him. It wasn't very easy, considering he has a daughter a year older than me who I was slight friends with and at first I
really couldn't get over the age difference thing. Unfortunately, we don't choose who we fall in love with, huh?
So three years ago, I decided to tell him how I felt. He seemed pretty surprised -- he asked me if I was sure, if I was sure I knew what love meant
(honestly that moment kind of insulted my intelligence), and then told me he didn't feel the same way.
Since then, I've been a complete mess.
I have absolutely no self-esteem. Almost constantly, all I can think about is how fat, ugly, stupid I must be that I can't be good enough for him. I still see him pretty often -- he's a writer so he stays in a lot and I give him company. I guess we're "friends", but seeing him hurts, and not seeing him hurts, and no matter what I do I can't get over him. Part of me doesn't ever want to get over him, because I'm so afraid that letting him go will mean I never really loved him at all.
My friends were there for me for a while -- but one by one they got fed up with me to the point that they started saying really hurtful and nasty things about it, so I can't talk to them anymore. I don't figure anyone really reads this place, but here I am, posting anyway.
Last night, when I saw him, I was talking about a costume I'm going to make and was trying to figure out what material I was going to use. He sat there listening to me and then reached over and ran a hand down my side and started saying something about "well for this part you could use blah blah" and I just... froze.
And then I was going to make dinner for him and asked him if curry would be good and he said yes and when we got back home he started making instant food and I just stood there.
I don't want to have a sexual relationship with this guy, I don't think. I want... I want so badly to just be his wife
, to be there with him, to do chores and his laundry and cook for him and just... be his. It's such a bizarre feeling, because I have never ever wanted anything like that before.
He was laying in bed reading a book (Everything's Eventual
, "1408" was a good movie but a terrible story as he and I both found out) and I slumped down next to him and I guess I must have looked upset (which is normal around him) and he finished his book and put an arm around me and pulled me close and tried to ask me what was wrong. It felt... so empty.
And he's so damn oblivious.
And he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "I can't make you feel better if you don't tell me what's wrong", and I told him, "You can't make me feel better."
And that was... the end.
I went to talk to my best friend and roommate about it later that night. Or, well, I went home and she asked me what was wrong, to which I replied, "The same thing that's always wrong with me."
And she started yelling at me, saying that blah blah how stupid it was that I "can't just get over being in love with Harry
," and on and on and on.
Yeah. That... that makes me feel great. It's not even like I went crying to her. She asked me
what was wrong.
Maybe next time I just won't even go home.
...God, I don't know what to do. I know this sounds so emo and stupid, but I laid in bed last night and daydreamed about killing myself until I fell asleep.
I feel so useless.
I'll stop taking up your friends lists now.
19th October 2005
blind_faith42 @ : I thought everyone would appreciate this because we are all nice girls...
I don't remember when I first read this but I was going through old files, found it, and thought that it would be most appreciated here. I still can't remember who wrote it.
Ode to the Nice Girls
This rant was written because a nice girl finally snapped.
I've read the tribute to the nice guys; this is my response.
This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blond girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.
This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.
This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisfied with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.
This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intramural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.
So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a tee-shirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congratulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.
So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)
12th October 2005
blind_faith42 @ : object of my infatuation
so there's this guy I work with. Travis. Really great body. Really loud personality. I like him but I can't have him. Because I highly HIGHLY doubt he's attracted to me. Hmm. seems like I'll updating often with my boy craziness.
31st August 2005
draggiebunny @ : *sigh*
i feel like shit, really, for posting in here. i figure you would prolly unnerstand. You'd think me a lying sack of dirt, but, it's nothing worse than what i've made myself feel over it.
well...i should start off. I'm with an AMAZING guy. he's smart, witty, creative, has a GREAT sense of humour, and beautiful. he literally makes my breath catch. we've been an item since the end of February, and, well, pretty much everyone who knows thinks we're a cute couple who're perfect for each other....i've just had a friend tell me that he doesn't want us to be a couple that breaks up because he has so much faith in us. This relationship is very, very long distance...and we've got trips scheduled throughout the year to make it work. it's hard and very crazy at times, but i really do want it to work. anyway, enough bringing things up to date...
now... Tom and i have a mutual friend. Josh is...very much myself in a dark light. I love him dearly. I liked him the day i met him. that hasn't changed over time. i actually Love the little punk. and yes, i do mean "little punk". he's going on 19. shame on me. When Tom told me in february how he felt, i said 'yes' to the whole thing...while still recovering from Josh. I remember telling Josh once...that no matter how many interesting peaple tried to catch my attention...i'd always follow him. Then he stopped talking...and became a video game addict. And ignored me. But i didn't care. He made me cry every time i talked to him...and i think i made dano sick and tired of it, cos i'd complain about it to him. i need to tell dano that i'm sorry for all that. the truth is, i'm still not over Josh. It's one of those things where...you don't really need a good reason to love someone...you just sort of, do. josh is still one of my best friends. i don't know what would happen if he ever stopped WANTING to talk to me. he constantly brings up the fact that he doesn't realize how much me misses talking to me until we're actually doing it...for me it's the opposite. i always forget how much i miss him when we're actually talking. it makes me incredibly sad.
anyway... that's my story. add?