This Song is About You
Sep. 10th, 2008 09:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sigmastolenSo apparently the Crazy that I try to suppress tends toward the Psychopathic Ex-Girlfriend variety? With an aftertaste of Neurotic Paranoia and Guilt, to judge by the impulse to apologise profusely the next day, after the episode is over.
I'm pathetic.
I'm pathetic and I'm crazy.
----
It's just. I want so many things. I want someone to be a huge nerd with. I want someone to make music with. I want someone to snog. I want someone to cuddle with. I want someone take care of me, someone I can care for in return. I want someone to go on road trips with. I want someone to care about my state of being. I want someone to think of me, randomly throughout the day, and smile because they know they are loved. I want to know that I am loved. I want someone to hold me at night. I want someone I can take home to my parents. I want someone who is conversant enough in video games to put my brother in his place. I want someone who appreciates pesto and a geeky t-shirt and the simple things in life and how fucking hard Mozart is. And, I'm so greedy, I want all these things from the same person.
But mostly, I want ___ back and I especially want him to not be at the Hollywood Bowl with his ex (by whom I mean the girl before me, who cheated on him, and damn do I remember exactly how torn up he was about that by the way). Especially when we've been in frequent contact and it's caused me to entertain half-formed fantasies of Getting Back Together. Especially that.
----
As a side note, I would also sort of like someone to do the "menacing big brother" thing. Someone to get pissed off when I'm unhappy, and Have Words with the person who caused it. Isn't that usually the task of the Burliest Platonic Guy Friend? Why do my guy friends not realise this?
----
One of the worst things is, I do get really angry. I can build up a frothing, screaming, swearing-and-throwing-things rage about this, but it never gets voiced. I'm a bottler by nature, for one, but more to the point -- the second I'm actually speaking to him, or in his presence, everything is sweetness and light and I don't want to bring either of us down by fighting, or even having a Serious Conversation. Everything is okay during actual contact. And he obviously doesn't want to deal with difficult things, because Coping is one of the things he is Not Good At, but I have some kind of communicative/emotional blockage going on here, too. And I really want to hash it out, tell him exactly what I've been going through for the past three months and how I feel and I just. Can't. I've fantasized about seeing him somewhere, and just going up to him and slapping him as hard as I can -- and I bet it would make his head spin and sting like a bitch. And then in the next moment, I instead imagine greeting him with the most sensual promise of a kiss that has ever existed. And back in reality, what actually happens is we both wave happily -- or at least, fake-happy but convincing -- and we have a Fun Conversation, which neatly avoids any topics included in the heading of Serious Conversation. And sometimes there is imbibing and sometimes there is teh secks and sometimes there is not. And I think I'm just really, really fucked up.
----
On another tangent, one of the weirdest questions I've ever fielded -- several months ago: I'm in the car with Z and a friend who was about to leave town; not a super close friend, but someone I enjoy spending time with and someone I'm comfortable being open with.
him: Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?
me: Yeah, of course.
him: Is ___ good in bed? [pause] You don't have to answer that.
I mean.... what? Where does that kind of question come from? And why, of all people, would he be asking? The world may never know.
----
I am intrinsically no good
I have a heart that's made of wood
I am only biding time
Only reciting memorized lines
And I'm not fit to touch
The hem of your garment
No, no I'm not fit to touch the hem of your garment
----
Z has been saying all along that he's not good enough for me. I still miss him.
I'm pathetic.
I'm pathetic and I'm crazy.
----
It's just. I want so many things. I want someone to be a huge nerd with. I want someone to make music with. I want someone to snog. I want someone to cuddle with. I want someone take care of me, someone I can care for in return. I want someone to go on road trips with. I want someone to care about my state of being. I want someone to think of me, randomly throughout the day, and smile because they know they are loved. I want to know that I am loved. I want someone to hold me at night. I want someone I can take home to my parents. I want someone who is conversant enough in video games to put my brother in his place. I want someone who appreciates pesto and a geeky t-shirt and the simple things in life and how fucking hard Mozart is. And, I'm so greedy, I want all these things from the same person.
But mostly, I want ___ back and I especially want him to not be at the Hollywood Bowl with his ex (by whom I mean the girl before me, who cheated on him, and damn do I remember exactly how torn up he was about that by the way). Especially when we've been in frequent contact and it's caused me to entertain half-formed fantasies of Getting Back Together. Especially that.
----
As a side note, I would also sort of like someone to do the "menacing big brother" thing. Someone to get pissed off when I'm unhappy, and Have Words with the person who caused it. Isn't that usually the task of the Burliest Platonic Guy Friend? Why do my guy friends not realise this?
----
One of the worst things is, I do get really angry. I can build up a frothing, screaming, swearing-and-throwing-things rage about this, but it never gets voiced. I'm a bottler by nature, for one, but more to the point -- the second I'm actually speaking to him, or in his presence, everything is sweetness and light and I don't want to bring either of us down by fighting, or even having a Serious Conversation. Everything is okay during actual contact. And he obviously doesn't want to deal with difficult things, because Coping is one of the things he is Not Good At, but I have some kind of communicative/emotional blockage going on here, too. And I really want to hash it out, tell him exactly what I've been going through for the past three months and how I feel and I just. Can't. I've fantasized about seeing him somewhere, and just going up to him and slapping him as hard as I can -- and I bet it would make his head spin and sting like a bitch. And then in the next moment, I instead imagine greeting him with the most sensual promise of a kiss that has ever existed. And back in reality, what actually happens is we both wave happily -- or at least, fake-happy but convincing -- and we have a Fun Conversation, which neatly avoids any topics included in the heading of Serious Conversation. And sometimes there is imbibing and sometimes there is teh secks and sometimes there is not. And I think I'm just really, really fucked up.
----
On another tangent, one of the weirdest questions I've ever fielded -- several months ago: I'm in the car with Z and a friend who was about to leave town; not a super close friend, but someone I enjoy spending time with and someone I'm comfortable being open with.
him: Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?
me: Yeah, of course.
him: Is ___ good in bed? [pause] You don't have to answer that.
I mean.... what? Where does that kind of question come from? And why, of all people, would he be asking? The world may never know.
----
I am intrinsically no good
I have a heart that's made of wood
I am only biding time
Only reciting memorized lines
And I'm not fit to touch
The hem of your garment
No, no I'm not fit to touch the hem of your garment
----
Z has been saying all along that he's not good enough for me. I still miss him.
