I wanted to do something for myself tonight. Just purely for me.
It’s been a while since I’ve wanted that. I mean, the way I wanted it tonight, the sort of thing I wanted tonight. do things that I want to do all the time. But there’s always an underlying motivation beneath it.
I constantly work. Because I want to work, because I need to work, because after so many years of working so much, the desire to work, the desire to earn money, the need to earn it… Is part of the fabric of who I am. I am constantly trying to make money. So that I can feel safe. So that I can breathe. So I can pay everyone back and get my life in order.
I drink quite a bit. Because I like drinking. I like going out and I like not remembering what my life is and who I am because I’m never really happy with those things. Because I’m scared that something is going to happen that I’m going to miss out on. Because my friends might form closer bonds with each other than with me and I will be left behind. Because there is always the fleeting hope that I might magically turn into a pile of abs at midnight and a nice pile of abs might fall in love with me.
Tonight I just wanted to go. Get out of myself. I just wanted to do something for me without an underlying motivation that didn’t have anything to do with me. I wanted to do something good. I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t want to drink or work or meet someone. I wanted to be productive. I wanted to feel good in a not shameful way. Because, at the ripe age of twenty-three ladies and gentlemen, I am getting tired of instant gratification and the false comforts of unhealthy habits. So, I went for a run.
It felt amazing. The air was perfect and it was April the way you always want to imagine April. Every exhalation and sweat drop felt like the sighing and stretching of my soul.
Britney Spears, my hero and my inspiration, said in her 2008 documentary, For the Record, “Sometimes you don’t need to use words to go through what you need to go through. Sometimes it’s an emotion that you need to feel when you dance, that you touch on and the only way you can touch it is if you move a certain way.”
Running felt like expressing every disappointment and every self-doubt of the past two months.
What prompted this, you might ask?
(I hope you’re goddamn asking, cuz I’m telling you)
A boy. The usual. Just a boy. Which is irritating to me. I’ve always wanted to be someone who was different. I never wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to be someone who could rise above the cliché and I guess, when I think about what the specifics of that desire means, rise above being human. I never wanted to be vulnerable. I never wanted to roll my eyes at myself.
But I’ve fallen for a boy that I shouldn’t. Well, that’s definitely too strong. Falling? Fall-ish-ing? I’m interested is what I’m goddamn trying to say. But I shouldn’t be. Because he’s not for me. I’m not for him. I’m not his type. Deep down I know this. I’m hoping that I’m wrong. I’m letting myself believe that I’m wrong. But I’m not wrong. He’s most likely not into me, and he probably never will be.
And I wonder if that’s kind of the point. I constantly see my friends falling for the wrong people because they are the wrong people. Because they know that they’re going to get hurt. Because they know they’re going to be rejected. But they’re going to be rejected for something outside of their control. He’s gay or she’s married or he lives halfway across the world. Something insurmountable that they can blame on something other than themselves.
Because if someone rejects you, if he rejects me, not based on outside circumstances but based on myself, based on who I am and how I am… Well, how are you supposed to come back from that? How am I supposed to survive that? I have walls thicker than titanium, but get past those fortifications and I am as easily crushed as Iggy Azalea’s rap career.
So I’ve fallen for this guy. I miss him when I don’t see him. He doesn’t miss me. I know that. And knowing that is killing me. But am I doing it to myself on purpose? Did I let this happen?
Then I got to thinking about all the bad habits I’ve collected. All the things that were important to me, that are important to me, that I’ve let slip away. I have become lazy. My life is a mess not simply because of outside circumstances, but because I’ve let it become a mess.
I’ve started letting things happen to me. Life is happening to me. I am not even trying to control it at this point. I’ve stopped running. I’ve stopped writing. I’ve stopped trying.
I work. Because I need the money. Because I have debts to pay. Because money will get me out of my most immediate holes, and I can never feel guilty or lazy when I’m working.
But there’s more than one kind of work. I can’t just mix drinks at a restaurant and come home and collapse after twelve hours shifts and let that be enough. That isn’t feeding my soul. That isn’t getting rid of these 20, 30, 40 pounds I’ve let accumulate.
I’ve let myself fall for this guy because I want someone to fall for, but I don’t want to try for a real relationship. Because I don’t like my body. Because I don’t know how to try to love someone, how to give a real relationship a real go, unless I have a suit of armor that consists of collarbones and fake tans and the confidence of knowing I’m the more attractive on in the relationship.
Unless maybe I’m really just kind of falling for him. In which case I’m screwed, but we can deal with that later if so.
When I was running, and now while I’m writing this… All of that fell away. I just felt better. I just wanted to feel better and now I do. I need to start trying again. I need to flex some leg muscle and some creative muscle. I need to stretch my soul out once in a while.
So, that’s what this is. I want to write. I love to write. When I’m in the zone and I feel like I’m on a streak, well, there’s no better high in the world. I want to breathe again. I want to create my life, not have it created. While I don’t know exactly what this blog is going to cover (a little of everything, I suspect, because I’m definitely going to have to talk about Britney Spears and How to Get Away with Murder and why I think Amber Rose is a fucking goddess), I know it’s going to be good for me.
I’m going to keep running, and keep writing, and I hope some of you will be interested to come with me along the way. I’m going to make my life the way I want it. I feel so much better. I’m not over this infatuation with this guy who probably can never feel the way I do, but I know that I will be. I know this blog will help me to get over this guy and the next wrong guy and all the wrong guys until I find the right kind of guys. I know it’ll finally let me express what I’ve always wanted to express about the awesomeness of the color white and the cruel lack of appreciation for Paris Hilton’s business genius and how to give the best blowjob. I believe it will help me make my life something like I’ve always wanted. I hope maybe it’ll make you laugh too.
So let’s fucking go.