Okay. The first step to overcoming addiction is to admit you have a problem right?
I admit I have a problem with reading too many paranormal romance novels.
I just finished the third Sookie Stackhouse book or the third book in the Southern Vampire series within about... Let's see... 28 hrs?
But let me try to justify my infatution-- my addiction.
Every single boy that has ever entered my life has ended up to being nothing worth the trouble.
If they don't break my heart, they disappear. If they don't disappear or don't break my heart, they follow me around like sick puppies with nothing fucking better to do than annoy me.
So. I'm tired. I really am. I'm s stressed out with my own shit, that I'm breaking out for christsakes. And I never or rarely break out.
You know, it's sad when your friends come to the realization that they will probably never find a good match for you because you'd destroy every single one of their little minds just with words. Well, that's what I've been told. And if there is one to handle me, they don't meet up to my standards.
Maybe I should lower mine.
Even though I've done that already.
I feel like Walmart. Like I should just keep dropping prices or standards in my case.
I haven't had any sex or any physical contact of that sort, not even a kiss in a few months.
So I sit around and read paranormal romance novels.
At least I can fall in love with a fictional character. As desperate as it sounds.
I'm really tired.
I don't want a relationship.
I don't even want to be touched right now (even though I really do), because I'm so exhausted from being let down over and over and over again.
There's nothing fucking wrong with me.
I just don't fucking understand.
Is this whole thing a huge joke that I am unaware of?
Am I uglier than I remember?
Are all my ex boyfriends and ex lovers laughing at me behind my back?
Am I way too fucking paranoid?
Yes.
I want someone to sweep me off my feet for lack of a better phrase.
I really want a man.
who isn't afraid of wearing a luchador mask and spandex.
I admit I have a problem with reading too many paranormal romance novels.
I just finished the third Sookie Stackhouse book or the third book in the Southern Vampire series within about... Let's see... 28 hrs?
But let me try to justify my infatution-- my addiction.
Every single boy that has ever entered my life has ended up to being nothing worth the trouble.
If they don't break my heart, they disappear. If they don't disappear or don't break my heart, they follow me around like sick puppies with nothing fucking better to do than annoy me.
So. I'm tired. I really am. I'm s stressed out with my own shit, that I'm breaking out for christsakes. And I never or rarely break out.
You know, it's sad when your friends come to the realization that they will probably never find a good match for you because you'd destroy every single one of their little minds just with words. Well, that's what I've been told. And if there is one to handle me, they don't meet up to my standards.
Maybe I should lower mine.
Even though I've done that already.
I feel like Walmart. Like I should just keep dropping prices or standards in my case.
I haven't had any sex or any physical contact of that sort, not even a kiss in a few months.
So I sit around and read paranormal romance novels.
At least I can fall in love with a fictional character. As desperate as it sounds.
I'm really tired.
I don't want a relationship.
I don't even want to be touched right now (even though I really do), because I'm so exhausted from being let down over and over and over again.
There's nothing fucking wrong with me.
I just don't fucking understand.
Is this whole thing a huge joke that I am unaware of?
Am I uglier than I remember?
Are all my ex boyfriends and ex lovers laughing at me behind my back?
Am I way too fucking paranoid?
Yes.
I want someone to sweep me off my feet for lack of a better phrase.
I really want a man.
who isn't afraid of wearing a luchador mask and spandex.VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
Nothing wrong with a little fantasy.
Signed