A Moment of Weakness

OK, so last night I had a brief but very real moment of weakness. I had been driving a friend home and he had mentioned that he was interested in other girls, which is perfectly fine. He absolutely has every right to be interested in other girls, and to be honest I'd much prefer to hear that than to hear him say he was interested in guys now (really, who wants to be the girl that turns a guy gay? That means, among other things, your vag must have been all sorts of bad). And I would be an incredible hypocrite to even entertain the thought of denying him that. Still, I don't know why but it pretty much ate away at me and I did something so incredibly shameful:

I actually cried.

No, not those obnoxious, runny nose tears. Just a single tear, like old Hollywood movies where the starlet still looks gorgeous while really sad. I of course played it off as if I had something in my eye and that I was completely fine. Being who he is, he left it at that and asked no further question. For that, I was extremely grateful. I didn't want to tell him really what's wrong with me at the time, simply because I couldn't exactly put it to words. After careful consideration of how to verbalize it, I've decided to tackle what has been plaguing my mind.

I know now that if I am to ever find myself in a position where getting into a relationship with anyone new is a possibility, I'm going to be the prey. I have gotten so fucking sick and tired of being the one to point and say, "Hey, you're cute. Let's chat." When I tell another friend of mine this, he always says, "Well, I'm sorry but other women have ruined that for guys by completely rejecting them." Thanks a lot, other women. That's nice but I don't care. I certainly can't go around with a sign taped to my chest saying "I won't reject you!" because there is evidence pointing to me doing exactly that. And plus, that's just incredibly tacky and stupid.

So now I'm caught in this crazy dilemma. Up until now, I go after what I want, be it an A on a paper, a scholarship, or even, say, a high school boyfriend (yes, that's an epic story of a ballsy sixteen year old). Now, I'd like to be the hunted and sit patiently and wait, or at least have the skill set to sit patiently and wait. It's taking quite a bit of energy to wait, which is absurd. "Waiting" is the only active verb in the English dictionary where in actuality there is no action. The mind has to do gymnastics when thinking about the action of waiting, and is the subject for one of my favorite plays, "Waiting for Godot." Read it sometime, it's awesome.

So yeah, that's basically what's happening now. Just going to simply wait for him, whoever he is, to come crashing into my life. He'll be a klutz; it's more realistic. In the mean time, I'll continue to write and observe things, and hold back on my own experimentation. More on that later.

~M