Welcome to my thinkings, on WordPress.com.

I got the sense that I should leave you alone, but we both know that I’m not that strong. I was praying that you and me might end up together. Forever. I know that life is not always filled with rainbows and butterflies. It’s really a compromise that moves us along. I had thought that one day, I would be walking down my lonely road and then at last my love has come along. My lonely days would be over. I belong with you, you belong with me. You’re my sweetheart. You can be my glass of whiskey that I feel I need a shot of everyday, I’ll be your shot of rum.

Just because we don’t talk for two hours every day, doesn’t mean I don’t think about you all the time. For how empty my head feels most of the day, anything that wanders aimlessly throughout it is a very lucky thing. Don’t worry too much about how much I think of you. Don’t be held down by what you can’t control. I can’t help that my heart seems to swing back and forth between the need for a routine and the urge to run, though. Perhaps it’s that we live in a society where pizza gets to your house faster than the police. Society today chooses what is more important. Maybe we do both need to live and let go. There is always a person who wants to see you fail just so they can pick you up to mend your heart.

How does a person look at someone they love and tell themselves to walk away? One of the hardest things to do in life is letting go of what you thought was real. Every time I say “I’m done” I find myself wanting to try again. I miss you. I can’t call you because it would only hurt me. I need to forget all of the reasons why I think we won’t work and believe the one reason why we will. I need to believe the one reason why, which I still have yet to figure out.

Do I Want A Or B?

What happens when you have feelings for more than one person? Does this mean you should express your emotions toward them both, or just choose whoever the coin you flipped has chosen? Not to mention, there is no guarantee that any of them also share these emotions with you. None of them ever appear to, yet I always seem able to tell him this, when I set my eyes on him, my heart beat will increase, I am unable to speak a complete sentence if even able to look into his eyes. I also feel the need to tell you that I like you. I need to get this out of me before it eats me alive.

I think I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year. So that would be over fourteen years. Not fourteen straight years, though. My emotions have an on and off switch. I am not constantly sitting around with just you on my mind, my heart and dreams set on you. I know in high school, I didn’t know what this “love” was. Is that term supposed to mean that your heart is “crushed with sorrows and despair?” Plus, since this feeling is merely a “crush’, I have never felt this need to pursue you.

Or should I?

This thought has been entering my mind more often lately. I just do not wish to travel down that road only to have to make a U-turn just when I thought I had made it the finish line I have been trying to cross for what feels like eighty years.

I have seen the type you generally have your arms around. Plus I’ve run across you on one of those (numerous) dating sites I am about to give up on; Plenty of Match Harmony or something, who knows. I got so excited seeing you were chosen as who they thought was a person I might be interested in! I never know how they figure these things out. How are these two people meant to be? Why do they feel that their hearts will blend so well together?

My excitement was building as I continued reading your profile. I felt like I was meeting a new you. Also seeing some old you. The old you that I had grown accustomed to after all these years, high school and on.

Then I came to the section I hate the most on these sites: desired body type. I know looks can matter. But not by a picture. First you cannot judge a book by its cover. To me. A picture is worth a thousand words. Plus, how does one know that this person they are really looking at is not the one that could one day perhaps be the one that is going to stab them while they sleep?

You can be my friend, but you cannot date me? You will hug me nonstop, but if I ever tried to kiss you, how would you react?

Now I know I’m sounding like a stalker, don’t get your hopes up. I just wonder if you ever knew. I think you did. I just don’t know if I still do. I know I love you. You are a very good friend. I just have, in that stupid dating section of my mind, a portion where I wonder how I would react if you ever asked me out. Or, if I ever even pulled mine out and asked you. It has only taken me fourteen years.

I sometimes still wonder if I still truly do have a crush on you. I like to say that I don’t. But then I read your blog, and I smile. I look over your pictures, see the way you’re hugging a person and my insides start to wriggle around. I start to worry that there’s something wrong with me, a certain piece of me that she has that would be a reason why you hug her and not me.

You would hug me in high school. Of course, you hugged everyone. You are the type that likes to wrap their arms around the next person that walks through the door, regardless of gender.

Now moving onto you; the one who is never here. How would you ever know that there was a person on the same planet as you that you could get to know? I also have no way to tell you that I sort of like you. It is just a crush, that is all. But, yours is a Facebook page I stay on, to read just to “get to know you”.

You should be thankful that I’m able to remember the day that I met you. When I can’t remember yesterday, yet I can remember a night that was more than three years ago, a night when the amounts of alcohol consumed was a lot, this must mean you were a person that my mind does not want to let go of. This was July 4th, a night to celebrate the independence of our country.

I was the first guest to arrive, even before the host. You were the only other person there. He was having you stay with him until the next time you knew you were to leave again. You are her and you are away, traveling around this world. Something I would love to do, yet the only thing I seem to be qualified for, while looking into that, is a travel agent! I’m not really the sales person type.

I walked into his house and the first thing I saw was your eyes. I am always drawn into your bright, blue eyes. You are always happy as well, a mood I am rarely in. I have my reasons. But, your eyes seemed to pull me in. Suddenly, I don’t know why, I started having my imagination right away of you and me. I was starting to picture a happy me, which there can be. In order for there to be one, though, I need a partner. That’s where you can come in.

I am just a little afraid to share these feelings with you. I can hunt around on my dating sites for a random guy I have yet to speak with, yet I cannot walk up or email you just to say that I have this enormous crush on you. The world would then implode.

I know that this doesn’t make sense. It’s just me emptying out that one portion of my brain that is too filled with the loneliest love that it has been trying for these past fifteen years. I need to make room for the next one that maybe I’ll come across tomorrow when I might decide to leave my empty little cave.

I Am Not Alone

I am not alone. I always have someone to turn to. But why do I feel like I have no person I can empty all this gloom that seems not leave my insides on? I have no person who is calling me every day just to see how my day is going or even so they can empty their sorrows to me.

I am never the first one who is ever chosen. I am not even the second or third. If chosen at all, I do except, but only to awaken my ass to see this mysterious sun outside that I hardly ever get the chance to see.

This is what makes me feel alone. When my text message is sent, if responded to at all, it might be days later. I notice with some others, though, they seem replied to as soon as the ball is dropped. It is wondered why I am so negative about everything. Well, if when I am given some positive in my life, one day this aspect will be reversed. Until then, I have nothing to smile about.

I have just always wanted one: a best friend. My other half. They look like so much fun. They seem so much cheaper than a therapist. Television shows make them seem so easy to come by; your sibling, high school, work, the coffee place. Well apparently I have cooties or something. Perhaps I am one point away from being a bestie. Maybe it’s because I do not have a boyfriend or children. I notice having one of those attached to you might draw another person in.

I know I can sometimes have attitude that everyone has to like me. Every person that I have just met, must like me right now or else this world will end. I think I just do not understand why I can sometimes be in the middle of conversation with a person and they can just walk away, while I am still in mid-sentence, almost as if they were not listening to a single word.

I need to stop acting this way. I am not five years old any more. This is not my first day of school. I do know that I have a friend I can fall back on. I may not be the best one, but I know that they love me.

I remember that I last said I love you to my mom. I really do love her. She gives so much work for me and I feel like I do not do enough for her. So I will just give her a big hug while I shout “I love you mom!” to the whole world. I will never regret this. My mom is my best friend. She is my only friend, I do feel at times, so I will never regret how many times I have to tell her I love her. I know she won’t care, either.

She has always been there, even through my lowest days. She tries to perk me up, turn this frown upside down. My mom always seems to know the difference between a day when my mood can be changed so easily or the other days where she may have to work a little tougher. But she never gives up.

She definitely knows almost all about my relationship status, which is at level zero. I think it will always be at this level. I think I will forever live with my parents. I am sure, eventually, our roles will be reversed and I will be the one in charge of the “grown up” responsibilities. I will be the one that needs to cook dinner, the one that needs to pay the bills. One day.

Love them as much as I do, I would rather already be sitting on my own couch with my husband and our two children. I feel I should have already walked down this path in life. Two things I never know if I will check off my list.

I know I shouldn’t think about what I should have done two years ago, as I sit and eat my normal, delicious dinner; pizza. Pizza helps to calm my depressing attitude. It seems to sink lower as I scan over this Facebook that I can never draw myself away from. When I have nothing else to do throughout my days, except my candy games and everyone else’s lives, this is all that I have. Perusing through it does not help to boost my self-esteem. It all just makes me circle back to being on this lonely road of life.

Hello, Farewell

Well I guess this is it. This is my goodbye. Farewell. What else do you want me to say? How much I still love you? How much I still think about you? How leaving you is the hardest thing in my life, but you know I have to. There is just something in the air that is holding us apart. Some person in this world does not want us together. I know I should fight them. If this were a regular Hollywood film, I would be fighting against this force that is trying to keep two people who are obviously meant to be with each other apart. But I just can’t do it. I am far to worn out from all that our stresses has put me through.

So I must leave you this way. No goodbye to your face. No long love letter. Just a simple “farewell.” Maybe, someday, if this is truly meant to be, we will meet again, our eyes will see each other, and we will know that we will never be parting again. Unless of course, we change our minds.

I do love you, though. I had thought you were my “person.” But, alas, the stars were not aligned in their order for us to be together. We travelled down the wrong roads in our lives. There may be pieces inside me that tell me I love you, but the two major ones in charge merge together to say “move on for a new hunt.” And I try. But I am sometimes drawn back to you.

And I left another my number the other day. My hopes were then set at a level of eight or nine, expecting a call from a guy who I, a woman, had the balls to hit on. Twenty-four hours later; nothing. Now, my heart burrows its way back into its dank, dark hole.

I begin to scroll through my Facebook in the hopes others’ lives are as low as mine. I know I should not wish this on those who I care for, but it always seems that when I am in these moods and I see everyone else way up in their happy, white clouds, I just want to shoot arrows at them, the cloud of course, so it will explode rain upon the world below it.

I would just like to know why you didn’t call. You had no problem talking to me all evening. You had no problem being friendly with me when you rang me up for the fourth time. I know I have known you for a very long time, but what is so wrong with me that you would choose that girl over me? Do not give me that “friendship” line. I know that is a load of crap. I can see the types of woman you are usually flirting with. So I do know why I am not your type; because I am not a size four. Because you may not be able to wrap your arms all the way around me. Maybe my physic is not the type you would be seeing in a bikini any time soon. I do know that I am just as attractive as that blonde that you seem unable to take your eyes and other man parts off of.

This just continues to lower the levels of my self-esteem. My couch in seeming to become my date for Friday nights and I am no longer having the urge to even search through the multiple dating sites that I am a member of. I have given up and may just always turn back to my farewell.

Wasting My Happiness

These days, at the beginning of this New Year, the world seems to have turned and just left me here. Thank you World. I haven’t really needed much from you these past few years. I haven’t needed a new organ, or a million dollars. I would just like something simple; happiness. The same thing I complain about every day. I know I say some days may be going well. I am a good liar.

Then I can’t stop dreaming, these 99 dreams that I have. I keep dreaming that I have crossed your mind. I cross your mind every time you look in the mirror.   I have no idea who your dream lady is, but I do know that as soon as you set your eyes upon me, you will not be able to take them off of me. Love will start to seep into the air.

My ratings on a ten scale have made me not as choosy in my empty world. If you rated a six for me, I would give you my number. I would email a guy that is a five. A guy’s conversation is drawing me over and I see that he rates a seven. Of course, who is to say one girls five is not another girls ten? We all have our own favorite flavors.

I’m used to my bulging, bleeding lump in my head. I just wonder if it was put there to shove me down this path of confusion and loss. Was I already supposed to find my true match, yet keep making the wrong turn? He needs to say something to help me find him because I am about to give up this search.

At some point, I know I have to realize that some people can stay in my heart, but not in my life. I still want them out of there. Some days, I can’t stop thinking about them, though. Other days I wonder why I’m wasting my time. I know I still love you, but I just don’t want to anymore. It hurts but that’s okay; I’m used to it.

I know that only I can control my happiness. I don’t want to ruin a good day by thinking of a bad yesterday. I always seem to, though. I always dwell on the past, asking myself, “What if I had…” and keep the smile turned down. I know I have to realize that another person can turn it upside down, one day that will happen.

I wish, out of all of these 50, unorganized boxes my grandma has left us, one of them would have a genies lamp inside. My grandma was a very unusual lady, so why wouldn’t she have one? I tell myself every day that love is not the road to happiness. But will it help me off of this road of loneliness? I have heard some complain about the love path they walked down, I know they do not want to return. I also know of some that will never leave this road in their lives. Their smiles will never be off of their faces. I don’t think mine will ever be on mine.

I Found a Genie!

Three wishes? Why only three? Why not at least four, or even five? Then, at least, I would be counting off each wish with all of my fingers. But three wishes. I sometimes don’t even know what I want.

I am one of those people who wants the number one selected wish: love.  Yes, love over money.  I don’t have any particular person in mind. I would just wish for whoever’s meant for me to get off of his ass and find me. I think I’ve been waiting long enough.

So, maybe I would wish more specifically for that; make my person bump into me on this specific date at this exact time. We would exchange the standard “Excuse me”’s and “sorry”’s. Then, when our eyes met, we would hold that look for an eternal five seconds as all the thoughts of, “Is this who I think it is?” flowed through our minds. That would be when I knew he was the one and he would know that he was never letting go.

I’ve had that thought before, though. I believe the guy who rang me up for my cola at 7-11 was the one put on this Earth for me. So who knows if my wishes will really come true?

Lately these days, in my forever growing old life, I never go out. I’m becoming a grouch, the old lady inside me trying to make her way out. I usually just spend my days watching TV and drinking my cola on my couch. Just spending everyday doing this, I would love to just take a pin to a heart-shaped balloon and letting it explode all of the love that seems to be spreading around me. Everybody has somebody but me these days.

I know that I’m walking on what feels like a lonely road, this road that I feel like I’m supposed to be on. It’s the only one that I have ever known. I cannot go home alone again, I think this to myself every single day. But I do. I sit alone on my couch every night. I scroll through my channels, searching for I never know what, alone. Then I crawl into my bed, wrap my arms only around my pillows. I need a person to numb this pain.

I always think I have found you. I think that the road that you’re walking down is the same road that I am meant for. I don’t know where you’re going but I’m always wanting to ask you if you have room for one more. I just never do. Maybe, if I could grab you and ask you to be alone together this would help us stay young, forever.

I know that I am the best that is meant for you. I am the best that you have ever had. Nothing else in your life will do you any better. This all means that we will never go home alone again. I am the one who can make your wishes come true.

I Wish Santa Got Ran Over.

I feel like the longer I continue on this path of liking you, I will just continue to fall further and further into this dark hole of emotional despair. I never even know if you have the slightest sprinkle of this information in that massive amount inside your mind that I feel this way. Other people know. I have no problem emptying out this load on them, yet I cannot walk up to you and spit out three simple words: I like you. I can have a normal conversation with you at times, I can even look into your baby blue eyes while I just to listen to you babble about another pointless topic. I cannot be drawn away from you.

I always get what I want and I never give up until I get it. Though, what I want, is making this hunt a lot more difficult. By being in a relationship with someone, that is the hardest I seem to be finding. I never seem to smile anymore. I know I have happiness somewhere. It’s all this hacking I constantly hear about the marriage and babies all around me. When I see a picture of the good things happening in your life, it seems to keep my happiness from even considering making a debut. I try to smile along, send you a sprinkle of joy, but sometimes I can’t. Sometimes I just want to shove you to the side so I can find my pillow and blanket just so I can hide away from the overload of delight trying to invade my life.

The one soul that I wish was here is not. Maybe I will find my connection with another that I have set intentions on. One that I may I haven’t seen yet. I may have, but I know how I can be; picky. I try not to be jealous of others. I know you were having as much problems as I am. But, like life, it all seem to come easy for you. You just searched one page, one night and bazinga! Thar she blew. Your knight in shining armor. Well, I tip my hat to you as I continue to flip page after page after page on my fourth site attempt.

This success just makes me want to think future divorce every time I see you. I try so very hard to shove these dank, dark secrets thoughts away from my cold, black soul. I love you too much to wish these sorrows upon you. My anguish does not need another’s home.

Santa was just not good to me this year. No job. No vacation. No Prince Charming. And he had to cause such sorrows to my mom. So, I thank you Chris Cringle for richening the rich yet pulling down the poor. Santa; thou art a butt munch.

My New Worst Enemy

Oh what a great party! From what I can remember. Whenever I can never remember a party, I know I must have had one awesome time. And I did. For the most part.

I like when the people invited always bring a dish or drink to share. I try to find something new that I’ve never made, just to test my still new cooking skills. I also try to fill my head with how everyone will see my delicious, intriguing dish and just dive right in. They will love it. Sadly, this never happens. Mine tends to be the most non-eaten plate at the party. I always walk by the table and see the other plates looking emptier, yet I can still count each piece that I had made. I had tried to spread a good word about this mystery grub. I had tried to do my own form of advertisement at a simple small gathering. This seems to not be my area of work to apply for, as my food remains untouched.

I should have just brought beer.

I try to remember who everyone is that I am seeing, as I continue to make my way around the house. I know you, but I don’t know you. Consider yourself a very lucky person if I questionable ask you your name and I’m correct. That must mean that I really like you.

These types of Christmas Parties, that seem to be becoming the new trend, are ones that I am now hoping someone will have just so I can go out and find myself an ugly sweater. I was also seeing that so many of the sweaters I saw that evening were so ugly that they were cute! I wanted them all!

Wandering around a house party help me to see who all was there. I know it was going to be a good time the way I saw what Keith was wearing. He looked like a very relaxed Santa. I also loved the way Ashley and Danny had the same exact red sweaters with green trees on. I noticed this as I passed them with a “hello” as they sat together on the couch. I didn’t ignore Jen and Chris, who were in the same room. I was just in a hurry to the bathroom. Something I should have used before I left my house. I was in a hurry for fun!

I needed to refill my bladder with my drink once I was finished. The kitchen was going to be the most crowded location for the night, as most always seem to be. I was just in the middle of telling Heather how I had constructed my sweater myself when Sam and Rachel walked through the front door. As I watched Heather go overboard seeing them, I glanced around the room to see who else was making their drinks. I think I remember Amy and her boyfriend Tom, I wasn’t sure though.

The basement did have more people in it, I hadn’t been sure if it would. Jason and his new wife Andrea were on the couch along with Becky and Ken. Suddenly, I was noticing something. I continued to look around the room, my face first stuck on Steve’s overly cute fox sweater that I remembered all night I tried to convince him to give to me. What I was noticing, that was just seeming to come to me, was that this was not just an Ugly Sweater Party. This was a Couples Party.

Couples. My one enemy. You are everywhere these days. You seem to want to throw your success on your dating path in my face. You bastards. I love you all, but sometimes, I would just like to attend a singles only gathering. At one of these, I would not feel so guilty having the inappropriate pictures of myself and whoever I’m speaking with in my mind. Yet I don’t see us having very many in this time of life. I still have my happiness somewhere inside for you all, do not be too worried. Somewhere, deep inside this black hole that I am, there is a big smile I have when I see how happy you are. I will never wish that away from you.

I don’t get returned to often on the desperate emails, winks, and begins for dates I send out on my multiple dating sites. I am a member of. The few that I do seem to get a response from, I can barely respond to before it seems like they are begging for some sort of inappropriate picture. An email such as that makes me feel like I’m talking to a virgin.

I am not that easy. No man can walk up to me, look at me with his captivating, Brad Pitt stare and then expect me to throw off his pants just so I can jump into bed with him, never having to call him again after our fifteen minutes of, what I’m assuming is supposed to be something to be spread all over my Facebook with.

That would never happen. You can dream about it all that you want, dating site men, but not all of us are whores. Some of us woman are actually hoping to find our other half. I know that I am. I feel like I’ve come to a dead end so many times, I’m about to turn in my towel.

I would like to find out who gave us these compasses in life, the ones that are meant to direct us to out missing piece. Perhaps I got the wrong one. Someone else out there might have mine and that would be the reason her and her man are getting a divorce.

I tell myself each time I’m leafing through choice’s on my dating page that this will be my last day. I will not be back tomorrow. I give myself motivations to put the brakes on in this path and move onto the other accomplishments I have been working on for the past three years. But, as soon as I have finished going through my Facebook to ensure I am not left out of anything, I immediately type in the web address for my dating site. My cycle never ends.

I always search for the same, specific type guy: the average built, perhaps a little extra weight, maybe I would even be attracted to one of the bigger guys (no athletic or thin one for me for theses seem to be the ones who turn me away, yet I will not do this to you if you are the one sending me a message.) I feel that no man should be more than two years younger than me, since I am not always the most mature. I also pick them to be no age higher than 35, only because I feel I am barely an adult at 30. Again, though, even if you’re not on my “list”, I won’t automatically turn you away. These credentials just seem to shrink down my searching and help me narrow down the field to my Waldo.

Dating site or not, though, when I step foot out into the real world, I still have those specifics when I’m looking for my who ever. Chances are, if I happen to be at a bar, I won’t walk up to Person A if they do not have what I had picked out earlier when doing I’m doing my daily searches. I would wander over to Person B, since he is my red haired, small group, good looking man to me.

The red heads always draw me in.

Where Is That Lucky Penny

I am totally sick of sleeping alone.  My pillow does not count as another one’s arms wrapped around me. Every night is me laying alone in the dark with my empty heart, repeatedly telling myself, “Please don’t still be in love with him.”  I can’t help but wonder if he ever misses me, though.  I know he does.  I was his perfection, I keep telling myself to keep my ego at its high level.  But maybe I only think I’m still in love with him because I can’t seem to figure out how to spell it.  I know you can’t spell love until you feel it. Do I?  Is love supposed to be when aggravation and happiness are together?  Am I supposed to want to keep him all to myself? Yet when he is, I want absolutely nothing to do with him, I do not want to touch him, but no other person is allowed to? I know that no other person can make me laugh, make me smile or even drive me completely insane like his does.  No other person makes the butterflies flutter around in my stomach the moment he kisses me.  When our lips are pressed and his hands are on my cheeks, I know that no other person has my heart in those moments.  Maybe, though, I’m not ready to love him.  Maybe I only love him because I’m lonely.  Am I supposed to want to throw my phone through a wall when we’re having an hour long conversation about the same thing, over and over, him just trying to change my stubbornness about something, yet I find that I am unable to hang-up?

I sometimes feel that I’ve been dreaming of this love that is lost.  The phone calls, the emails.  Yet I dream of it as well.  You are my biggest “what if”?  Is it still in the air, hovering over us day in, day out?  You are the one I loved but, I’m sorry, I do want to get over you.  Deep inside my black hole I know that you are not the one that was put on this planet for me.  Eventually my soul mate and I will meet, hanging out at our favorite spots one day.  Whether it be wandering aimlessly around Barnes and Noble, hunting for a book I do not need, or being out at another of my random 7-11’s for my daily visit, he will be there.

I know this technical singleness I am is my heart being taken by someone I cannot call my own.  I often think about what we almost were.  I find my mind wandering into my future, seeing you there.  Then I see my past and how my feelings were for you.  The love was there, I could feel it trying to chiseled its way through my system, but something was trying to hold it in the same spot inside me.  The little things. I know that I have to remind myself, along with everything in life, that if you wanted to talk to me, you would.  My phone would ring, it was always you.  Two hours later, conversation would end and I would never know what else to do with my day.

I know you know that I don’t miss you. I miss the person I thought I was learning to spend the rest of my life with.  As this year comes to an end, our months grow further apart I keep telling myself that the less I care, the happier I will be.  I just thought you would like to know, though, that you’ve never left my mind since our very first day.

Just because something ends doesn’t mean it never should have been. We lived, we learned, I grew and now I’m trying to move on. Each night I put my head on my pillow, my day rolling through my mind, I tell myself that I’m strong without you, because I am. I know that we’re not friends. I don’t think every time I say I’m done, I find myself wanting to try again. I know that we’ll never even be haters. I will never hate you. Maybe we’ll just be strangers with memories.

It’s time to move on. I know that it is. I just hate that it seems so easy for you to be fine without me. You seem to be able to move onto another path as I sit in my middle of loss. But I will cheer up my hotness! I will love again and he will be magnificent! Everyone else will be so jealous of me! I know that it is time to move on. So get off my lazy ass and just leave whoever behind. Perhaps one of these days, one of these pennies, shooting stars, wishbones or birthday candles will do their job so one of my wishes will come true and when I trip to stumble on the ground, my Prince will be the one to help me to my feet.

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