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2004-05-17
So, I recently realized my trouble with men: I jump on the first guy that shows interest in me, believing that if I don't settle for him that I may end up the rest of my life alone. This almost always results in me being stuck in a relationship that only goes nowhere with a partner who isn't my type, and basically everything just goes to hell. Now, anyone on the outside could have seen this coming but when you're the one experiencing it, when you're the one behaving this way, you don't even realize that you're doing anything drastically wrong. For all the love advice I throw at people, I'm really bad at taking it for myself. I never knew that I had this growing fear of being alone. I mean, I knew that I had a general paranoia about it, just like everyone else, but it wasn't until the other day that I really started to understand the logic behind my [at times] irrational behaviour. Truth is, since I started dating at the tender age of fourteen, I don't think I've ever been without a boyfriend. That's roughly eight years of subconsciously believing that I needed another person to validate myself. Crazy. Last night I was watching The Breakfast Club, the first time in a while that I've seen the uncensored version. And I really watched it. The chemistry between Molly Ringwald's character Claire and Judd Nelson's character Bender was unreal. I don't know why I never noticed it before. How they taunted each other, flirting through insults and arguments. At times the tension was unbearable and throughout much of the movie I found myself wishing that I could have that too. Sure, it's movie-love and movie-love doesn't really exist to the capacity we're lead to believe, but I couldn't help myself from wanting it. I guess, moreso than movie-love, it's the return to adolescent love that I miss. Everything was fantastic when I was a teenager, love especially. There was no hinting around things because when I fell in love, I fucking crashed. It was the severity in emotion, the overwhelming way I went about living that made every moment seem like it stood out. Everything was saturated in extremes then, vibrant and exciting. Now, after being through a handful of heartbreaking benders, I look at the dating world and feel completely discouraged. I've experienced enough that I've made myself jaded, to the point that I'm beginning to believe that love doesn't even exist. Well, I won't go that far. Heh. I guess it's just easier to go about relationships with a certain amount of detachment because that way things hurt less when they inevitably don't work out. Or something.
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