I need me some girl talk. Stupid finals.
I've been quite indecisive lately. It's not really a problem, and everyone's mood shifts. But I'm having a hard time gauging what it is I really want, and I'm so in limbo that I don't even know if that's a good or bad thing.
Sometimes I'm more interested in just holding hands, and sometimes I'm more interested in sex. Sometimes I'm a social butterfly who succeeds at making everyone in the room laugh. Other times I'm setting my phone to silent so I don't have to talk to a soul. Sometimes I want a serious relationship, and other times I'm the biggest commitment-phobe.
I certainly don't feel indecisive about my sexual orientation at the moment though. I've been happily practicing the heterosexual lifestyle since February, and I'm quite willing to put up with the typical assholery of men.
But I need the friends who have been around to hear about every romantic mistake I've made since I was 19. I want them to follow me on dates, and when I'm about to do something stupid, they could cross their arms, shake their heads slowly, and give me a stern look. No, you cannot be picky about that flaw. No, you cannot take your clothes off yet.
So I like Scrawny Boy. Scrawny Boy likes me. But the second he started using more commitment-type words (e.g. "dating" and "companion"), I wanted to run. I don't think I'm afraid of getting my heart broken anymore; I'm afraid of being limited.
We saw Happy-Go-Lucky, and the main character in film was kinda living my ideal life: she was offensively optimistic and upbeat, she was committed to her friends, she worked with kids, and she dated occasionally. She lived in the moment, rented instead of owned, and kept things simple, even if she encountered not-so-simple occurrences.
Trade-offs, trade-offs.
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