I often wonder why so much of my adult life has been centered around the men in it.
Why do I spend time caring for, coddling, loving, sometimes almost obsessing over men, when I could spend all that time on me? I mean, rarely does the effort get returned in kind. Half-assedly, yes, but rarely, if ever, is it returned with the same caring and attention to detail.
And yet, here I am again, not sleeping, thinking about some guy. Is he interested, is this a bad idea, is it too soon, would it end badly?
The answer to all of those questions, in case you’re wondering, is yes. Yes, he’s interested. Yes, I may be too. Yes, it would go badly, end badly, and is way too soon for me.
But I can’t resist checking my email one more time, looking at my phone to see if he called or texted, or just peeking at his facebook photo.
I don’t want to be this girl. I want to be focused on me, intent on my own goals, complete in myself. I want to stop wasting time and energy on someone who doesn’t deserve it, when someone who does is sitting here not getting her beauty rest. Maybe I just need to get laid. In reality, I need to stop deflecting and work on myself.
Dammit, attraction is a mysterious thing.
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