I do this thing, well really, it feels less like something I do than something that's just a gross part of me, like a hairy, insecure mole or something. Now that I've given you that image, I'll try to get at just what that growth is exactly. For some reason, I still haven't figured out why, I have a very hard time with feeling like I deserve much of anything. Namely, passion. Let's take a purely hypothetical, never ever happened, example. Let's say, I like some one. A cute boy, probably. Now, if I like you, I will dive head first without even looking. Within days there will be at least fragments of poems written about you. Little sonnets about how we are both too anxious to make wishes because maybe there are wish loopholes that will distort the wish into something we don't really want. Or not, you know. Or maybe if you're really lucky, I'll write you a horrible corny song at 2 am when I can't sleep, just because I was thinking about you and how cool you are. And then maybe I'll practice singing it in the car while driving to work and get really emotional. Or not, you know. You will probably get a mix CD, and maybe a hip greeting card with a very long message about "how I feel lucky just to know you." I'll want to talk to you, and will probably tell you that. I may also tell you that I had a lovely time hanging out with you, if we've gotten to that point.
The problem is, though, that I don't feel like I should expect these things in return. Honestly, I can't even imagine a guy being so into me that he goes this batshit sentimental, just because he likes me. Me! Lately, I've been thinking about this pattern, and how I'm really not a fan. I'm not happy in that role of chaser, of "the sentimental one." Maybe I'm not the most crazy amazing super hero of a girl, but is it so weird to think that if I can get passionate about a nice guy, a nice guy could be passionate about me? Is that so foreign a thought? I get passionate about things all the time! Ice cream! Pasta! Mountains! Lumberjacks! So why do I think I don't deserve the passion of another person? Or, rather, why do I feel like I can't ignite that passion? Or that I won't find it? That I should just be content with someone who likes me, but doesn't show it, who isn't up in the middle of the night crooning a love ballad because he thinks I'm that alright? If I can be that crazy, can't someone else? Maybe this doesn't make sense. Maybe I'm asking too much. See, this whole post was about feeling like I don't deserve a mutual, excitable spirit, and here I am, talking about the fact that I'm asking too much. I suppose I'm just so tired of walking down a one way street, hand excitedly extended for a high five, and making excuses for the lame people who ignore it. So, I guess it's time to start remembering that I deserve that high five, and that people who think I'm silly for putting myself out there, are not worth my time. Or hand. Or mix CDs.
Oh right, and this outfit. Let's just say I put the "um" in peplum.
my peplum got a little too excited
Until tomorrow,
Nicole
