So you wanted to take a break
I keep telling telling myself that I need to let myself feel it as I feel it, stop forcing my emotions, stop lying to myself.
Fuck that. This is stupid, and that is not the way emotions work. Things are only as important as you let them be. There are millions of bad and messed up things in the world that I don’t let bother me. If I worried constantly about global warming, or rapture, or if I cried at night hoping that The Spice Girls never put out another album, people would tell me I was crazy and medicate me. Yet, when some boy who I like doesn’t like me back I’m supposed, and even encouraged, to cry and freak out like the world is ending? I’d better spend my time crying every time I saw a Hummer on the street, or because there’s going to be a Garfield movie. These are signs of the apocolypse, not a lack of cuddles.
This entire last two months just reeks of me not acting like myself. Sad little puppy following boy who doesn’t like her around? I hate those girls. I disrespect myself for acting like that. I know he didn’t feel what I felt and I should have just walked away rather than letting him get so close to me and letting down all of those walls and hurting myself so much worse in the end. And damnit, I need to stop acting like he’s the only tortured intellectual who will make me watch his TV shows and cuddle me in the world. It’s not like this group of men is hard to come by, they have whole conventions of them under aliases like “Science Bowl”, “Science Olympiad”, “Star Trek Convention”, and “The Library”.
I need to calm the hell down, and stop letting this get to me so much. I need to stop thinking about that promise he broke that proved me wrong, I need to stop thinking about the cowlick on his face and laughing. It makes no more sense for me to miss him than it does for him to walk away.
I am a smart girl. I’m well read, I’m philosophically inclined, I’m capable, and self sufficient, artistic, caring, and not bad to look at. I am entirely worth the time of anyone smart enough to want me, and the vast majority of the time anyone I’m interested in is also interested in me. I am not going to keep feeling bad because I would have been good for him. I am not going to keep feeling insecure because he never complimented me. It is entirely his loss.
And I am entirely too young, and too clever.