Writing Lines

I sentence myself to write the following lines on a mental chalkboard as punishment for briefly forgetting again:

His opinion does not define you.

His opinion does not define you.

His opinion does not define you.

His opinion does not define you.

(rep: x infinity)

I am more loyal and more sincere and more real and just generally more permanent than most (possibly all) boys can handle. This is because boys are flighty and indecisive by nature, always trying to have it all because the world has told them they can. And I do not put up with that, at least not without a fight.

I like to believe that men realize the value in all of those things and know what they want, and how much they can and deserve to have. I haven’t met any yet, but I like to believe this. After all, some people are happily married for many years, like my parents.

I do realize that I sound like a snotty, hard-to-impress, man-hating bitch, but really, I’m kind of the opposite. I just want someone to care about basic things the way that I do, like how my day went and my birthday and be there sometimes if I need someone to be.

I guess it’s harder to find than it sounds.

I know so many strong, independent, smart, amazing girls who let these things roll off their back like water. I am not one of those girls because I’ve been through a lot already, and my healing injuries are a lot more intense than those of your average 22-year-old.

Throwing salt in that wound is kind of like poking a bear. Not advisable. Don’t do it. Not because I’ll attack you or even yell at you but because I won’t. I’m permanently hibernating. I used to be like that and now I lack the energy. I don’t deserve it, and I know that, but I also know that I will never convince anyone else.

What energy I do have is spent being angry at myself for intentionally making myself vulnerable when I know that I have suffered these losses, for not protecting myself, for repeating an unsuccessful pattern, for deciding to settle for less.

I’m sad that I gave my heart to someone who didn’t deserve it, however briefly. I was in love once and nearly loved back, and my standard for myself is, if not something that rivals that, at least something that those people would approve of. They would never approve of this. I’m sad that I gave my heart to someone who doesn’t understand how rare and special that is, that I would decide that they could be worthy of following in those footsteps. I feel like I’ve made a mockery of the entire concept of love and screwed up everything I believe in, even though that is completely ridiculous.

I know I shouldn’t be angry at myself for believing in the hope that was offered to me – it was real, and it was the first real hope that I’ve seen in a long time. It wasn’t based off of something I had created in my head. I needed that so badly, it just disappeared so fast.

I think that my life will always be a series of ‘almosts’.

You never really can see these things coming, even if other people claim they can predict the future. By that logic, I can predict the future too, and who’s to say that what you believe is truer than what I believe? Of course, that’s usually the case, but we all have to learn for ourselves.

I was warned but that doesn’t make it okay. I adore complicated people – my goal is no longer to fix, or even to understand sometimes, but I am drawn to them because they seem real and genuine, like me. And I see the best in them. I have more faith in them than they do. I believe in them even when they explicitly tell me I shouldn’t. It’s time to start listening, but it doesn’t make it okay. It’s not okay.

The older I get, the more ‘baggage’ I accumulate, the harder it gets for me to find someone who will accept all of that. Or rather, someone who understands that there IS nothing to accept. I’m fine the way I am, even if I am different. There’s nothing that actually says that people who have sex with random strangers or party every weekend or have a ton of friends are better than people who don’t. And the bad things that have happened to me are not my fault.

My ex taught me many things and depending on the day, a different lesson is usually at the forefront of my mind. Right now, it’s that any guy worth your time will not judge you for those things. They will make those “hard conversations” easy. They’ll bolster your own self-confidence and opinion of yourself, rather than creating their own opinions about you that you have to conform to.

Remember that, remember that, remember that.

Anyway, I’m back. I’ve been writing drafts all month but never posted them out of fear. And I guess I’m glad of that now. I’m also taking a creative writing class at school, which requires us to complete short exercises every week, so I’ve been busy with that as well. I might post some of them at some point. I get all embarrassed about my creative writing but then I realize that they’re basically just blog posts with a different name and a bit more exaggeration.

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