| Current mood: |  depressed |
I've really discovered that we only see what we want to see, even if we know we are being blinded by our own selfish desires. I was stupid enough to think that maybe he felt something for me, and not even because I especially like him, but only because I've grown so desperate for someone to like me. And perhaps, yes, I would have gotten some sick, perverted pleasure from showing Summer that I could actually get a guy, but I guess that's not to be, either.
For a little while, that dream mom had of someone telling her that the reason I'm not having any highschool flings is because I'm too intuned to finding the guy I'm going to marry (even though I don't realize that I'm looking for that person yet), held me up. But whatever bit of truth I pretended to wring from that--a DREAM--has vanished long ago, and I'm more lonely than not.
I'm so selfish, I know, but I just can't help it any more. I'm lonely, and I yearn for more than a casual relationship that consists of a smile here or a few words there. I want what everyone else seems to have had at least once before me. Or at least I want answers. I want to know why I don't have it. I want to know what the fuck is wrong with me. I want to know what I said wrong, what look I give is so wrong. I want to have the answers that continually elude me. But it does not seem that I will even have that and so I must retreat to my bedroom and my dry erase board where I will continue to map out the rest of my life...Marines vs. Journalism vs. Journalism in the Marines.
I wish I could have that same reckless abandon sort of fun that everyone else seems to have. I wish I wasn't such a tight ass, I wish I could just stop giving a damn. But I'm always going to turn back to the things that no one else cares about, because that's all I have. School. My future. The Marines. Because that's all I have in my life, even though 2 out of 3 of those things I don't even have yet.
But we can't all have what we want, and we can't have all that we want.
And right now, all alone, listening to the sprinklers outside, I'm so jealous of Audrey that if there was anything left in me to cry, I would. But there isn't. So I'm just writing.
Thursday I left their house as soon as possible because I didn't want to be near her and Stu because it depressed me too much. She didn't speak to me the entire time. I know she didn't realize it. I can't stand to look my friends in the eye when they're with their boyfriend/girlfriend because I'm too afraid that all I want to have will be so obviously slathered across my face, like lipstick when you hit a bump while you're in the car.
I hate being transparent. I hate being weak. I hate wanting to love so much.
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