It never fails.

It's always like this isn't it?

Will it always be like this for myself?

See, after all is said and done, I am still her.

That girl, and I won't forget. I can't forget. I hope to have some semblance of hope left like I lavish upon my friends, saying, there is always hope, you just have to have faith. And while I say this, I remember. I remember how they both broke my heart and while we were both going through the pain, the hurt, the anguish of breaking up, that both of you, yeah BOTH, Not Once, but twice, you both left me alone with my broken heart for me to heal all by myself, which I did (wasn't damn easy)and while both of your suffering for me was comforted. Both of you were held while you both cry out your bleeding hearts by another girl. I know this because both of you told me in our last heart wrenching bitter argument while reaching for closure conversations. Hell, it was the reason I left both of you!

How nice I remember saying to the first, to have someone to hold you when you're hurting for me, and our failed relationship. The only reason a lover stops paying attention to his love is because of another lover. And to the second, I told that I knew it already. & he assured me that it wasn't like that, that their relationship wasn't like that. That she was there to work on herself and that he was just taking care of her. But I already knew it was going to be like that eventually, and it did. And ofcourse you both went on with your life, and you both would forget about me and did just like I thought to myself, and your pain would be lessen by the comfort of having her in your life.

Like I said, how nice it must be to have someone to hold you already after we broke up. or you broke up, or you left me for her, or just left me. And you said I would forget, I would be okay because I am a strong person. But you forget who I am, you forgot how big my heart was. How I really do give myself over completely to the person I love because I believe fully in loving a person, and not halfassing it.
The second told me that I had loved him in ways that he could never imagine, and it's true, because I did.

I did and because I gave myself over so completely, sometimes it still hurts even though it's been such a long time.

I wouldn't have thought it possible either. To remember hurts like that, but when I saw what I thought was you walk right past me at work, my world stopped, and I couldn't breathe. And I realized it wasn't you and yet I nearly fell apart at work. I don't know how I kept myself in check, my eyes watered over, and I didn't cry only because I swallowed every bitter taste of hurt, and wiped furiously at my eyes to make them go away.

And then the other one, I am cruelly reminded of each Monday and Wednesday because the guy in front of me has your skin tone, and your inability to grow strong facial hair, and your hair color and mannerisms that were so dear to me.

I hate this. Is this why I dream so much of my writer, because he looks like a guy who wouldn't hurt his girl. He looks like the type of guy who wouldn't leave his girl for another, no matter how pretty, how present, how anything she is. How he really would never hurt his girl because he couldn't bear it. He looks like he would always have a kind smile at the end of day, and be forgiving, no matter how much we had argued. He looks like he knows how to actually treat a girl. He looks like the dream he is and I will never have him.

I fear I will always be that girl who was left for another.

While you two were busy being comforted by your other girls, being held while your heart cried out for me.

I did not have anyone and I still don't. No one held me while both of you hurt me because I was actually faithful because I believed in us up to the very last moment, I did. I really did and I still suffered for it. Like the song, I gave you everything I am, everything I got. But love had it's say and it wasn't for me.

why in the fuck did I have to be reminded of both of you? Why did I have to have dreams, of both of you?

Why did you both have to do the same thing in the end to me? Why? It just makes me want to give up hope and forget.

I shouldn't even be stressing about this. I shouldn't be remembering. I should forget, like you both forgot me.

There's nothing left to say, I was right, and sometimes I wish I was wrong, especially when it came to this but I know how guys can be so well that I can't help look at the reality of the situation.

And my situation is simple: I'm a dreamer now and that's all I'll ever be.

Guess he wants to play.

He wants to play our lovegame.

Don't think too much...

Just one thing.

Don't compromise everything you are

When I was 21 years old to the day, my birthday. I did nothing for it. I spent the morning babysitting, and then Carolina showed up to do my hair. To make me so pretty & she did.

She did something to my hair, place it high in those oh so fashionable styles reserve for weddings and galas. She spent the whole morning with me. She did my makeup, putting on eyeliner which even though by then I was into makeup, but not as much as I am now. I was still getting the hang of it. So she did it. & we were happy. We were both in loved and waiting for our boyfriends to come home from work. & she wished me a happy birthday and left me with a hug and un beso.

I was dolled up and for my outfit, I wore the custom made polka dot dress my aunt made for me. She had cut out the fabric and everything and send it with all her love from LA.

I was complete with my little white heels which were new back then, shining with my red toe nail polish freshly done.

I put on pearls & was complete.

& then everyone came home, my parents bringing me a little cake from the store, my mom blowing up red balloons for me since they are my favorite in balloon colors.

That's when he made the entrance. I heard him from inside. I went out to him and his jaw dropped. I don't think he's ever seen me so beautiful. His parents and whole family were with him, doing I don't know what. They had caught up with him to tell him something. His dad check me out. His brother did. His best friend. I saw the way they looked at me & smile. But I only smile sweetly at him. He was still fresh from his work, smelling of chicken and flour. He took me right there, with his uniform on, food stains on his forearms, and in the classic movie ballroom dances, he dipped me and kiss me.

We didn't go anywhere, even though it was a milestone birthday. I don't think we did anything but sit around the kitchen and talk. I don't remember watching TV or even listening to music. I don't remember my presents. I was 21.

What I do remember was his playfulness. His kindness. The fact that he had made me canolis from scratch. The fact that he must have told me he love me, and that I was beautiful so many times that day, and that he was so very lucky, so lucky to have such a pretty litte future wife to go home to. His Mrs. Bunny.

It got late, ofcourse time didn't stop and he left. Left with promises of a weekend date which he fulfilled. He always kept his words and was never cheap, not with me. I forced him to be cheap because I knew he couldn't afford me. Couldn't afford to take me out to all the places we wish we could eat at. I didn't care. it wasn't about the money, I pitched in most of the time, & later was paying for everything. I didn't care. I was a good girlfriend. I told myself that. If I took care of him, not just financially but anyway I could. he would stay with me. & I wanted him to stay because I truly loved him. I just wish that when moved on without me, that he had given me one last kiss to remember him by. I try to recalled the last time we kiss & it's faded into a blurred of other times his lips met mine.

I miss him still, especially in the dark hours of the night. I yearn for him. Want him when I'm talking to others, try to put him out of my mind when some sweet nothings are being said to me in order to get me to give them what they want from me. They remind me & it hurts at times, but not so much anymore.

But I'm not losing hope, every day, every time I talk to someone new, I know that I am worthy of a person of better character. Of a guy who would stay because he cares for me, not just my body.

I only wore that dress, that outfit that day & once again I wore it when I went out with my friends.

I'm wearing it right now, such a pretty dress which I love so much shouldn't be kept in the closet. I'm pulling out all my old outfits that I used to wear when it was just me. Because they made me happy because I thought and still think, they're just grand, simply smashing, no matter what anyone else thinks or if they're not in a fashion trend anymore. I don't care.

It's time. My dresses, skirts, outfits, they can't stay in the closet forever. Neither can I, hiding behind my sexuality. Now I just need a way to find how to make a golden boy fall into infatuation with me, not just lust.

I guess it all worked out

The reason I'm not blogging much these days is because happiness with little trivial complications that are nothing, has decided to visit me.

I am happy.

This is my secret blog that turn into my rant against what the fuck is up with my world & what the fuck am I doing? But the longer I don't blog, the longer my happiness has decided to stay. I only hope that everyone else feels the warmth of what life can be too.

& that this feeling stays, and this blog should turn into my nauseating happiness as I gush about books, movies, and all the good stuff that life has to offer like funnel cakes and inside jokes. Memories. Beautiful memories that make up our lives, that make up our daily happiness.

Now all that I want to do is go back to my writing, it beckons me, and I have answered its call. So I'm happy.

They say she needs to slow down

He gave me hope. It's as simple as that. It's why I went denying that I wasn't obsessive, just curious. Just because he gave me hope. Hope that maybe this guy might actually want to date me, maybe. So I allowed myself to feel something beyond lust. Totally my fault, should have waited a bit, see what would developed, but I was just so damn happy. SO happy to be called pretty for once, bonita, linda, the difference between the two is that linda is more personal, and the difference was how I felt about it.

For that day, that moment. It meant something. It meant more than any comment I've received because I thought he was just using a bit of the old southern charm on me, just playing the gentleman card, saying before me, opening doors offering me what he was drinking (I refused). And before I knew it in the time frame of 40 minutes. I was attached. Attached to that idea of me and him, maybe. It's not that I was expecting a relationship, more just like a date or two, maybe a few texts, a friend, nothing serious, but fast. A friends with benefits with having the potential to be something more.

And I just need to get it out of my system. I need to exhaust the topic and thoughts of him and just let him go.And I think part of my problem is that when it comes to love, lust. I either go all the way, (most cases yes) or I don't. I was looking at my past blogs and read how I've been blogging about him since December when he was the elusive picture of my exhookup's friend who was nice, sweet. I wrote how I just wanted to talk to him, get to know him, how I knew it made NO SENSE, that I didn't have a chance in the world because he's the friend of a hookup and now Look at me. He's free game and I have his number and back then, that's all I wanted, his number. And he has mine, and he hasn't called, and stupid of me to even think that he would call, and he did, once and I Missed it. I was in the shower. And would I be in a different place if I had not been and answered? Would I know the truth? he hasn't call, and he isn't calling (me back again), and he's moving FAST on the track to being a number. just another hookup, to meet, and do, and forget. And I'm not afriad of it anymore if he is because I'm already getting dissattached.

What I am afraid of is what if he is interested in me but because he doesn't know me, is too chicken shit to make a move. This is what I wrote about him once; SO what if I like him? What if I slept with friend? So! What if I'm delusional enough to want to get to know him. What if I have the balls enough to ask hookup#9 about his friend. I'm going to look forward to this, whatever it develops into, if at all.
And just because i play the game, doesn't mean I rule myself out for the ability to settle down either. Doesn't mean I rule out crushing on someone for who they are, not what they;re like.

And I just have to see where it goes, but that's me keeping hope. 8 School Days including today is all the time I'm giving him. Then I'm going into the game myself, no more waiting.

Living is easy with eyes closed

I need to find my core. Need to find my own place. Need to be able to smell the daffodils and go to Innisfree.

I was so proud of myself for how I handled today. It was such a happy day too and then I came home. Big Mistake. If I had known it was going to bring me so down I would have made some bullshit excuse to stay at the library or anywhere. It wasn't that home wasn't bad, or that there were chores and crap to do, it was just that I came home and logged into my myspace to check a message. pretty normal, right? Yeah, but what I saw, whom I saw, photos of my past coming alive in the present, recently taken pics, and I know I should just delete our mutual friend forever and just forget. And I was forgetting, every day being easier, most days becoming the norm where the time passes without a thoguht of him. Like it should be. Because by now I should just move on and go. Go live. But it still affects me, songs, they bring back memories, and some of my very favorite songs that I have been listening to forever, I can't sing to because I will think of him all through out the song. And I know that I should just say fuck him, he's an idiot who didn't know how good he had it with me, and I know that he moved on, even before he left me for her, and he forgot about me long ago. Stop caring and I hate my heart for still thinking of him. For looking at the photos and saying to myself, I don't know that house. I didn't get a chance to. I should be there, sitting, with them, and I'm not and I never will be. And I wold have been alright, been better at handling these photos, the memories, if it wasn't for this early morning.

Early morning; I woke up, don't know why because I was having a wonderful dream in which Mr.Viking paid me a visit and we were just sitting across from each other on the floor, talking. That was it. And I woke up, couldn't fall back asleep. I started reading my current book; Belong to Me by Marisa de lo Santos. And it was going great, I was really enjoying it until a new character emerged, A new character who was dying already of cancer. And the waiting, the frustration. It just got to me, and I whispered down to the book, whispered into it. "I miss you grandma..." I really do, you were the one teaching me how to cook, even though you lived 300 miles away. No one else bothered, parents too busy, household too busy, and it was all by phone, and i was just trying to help, to cook dinner, and I just needed a bit of instruction, what spices to put, which ingredient is boiled first, how to make those salsas. How to cut that, and you answered every time and guided me through and they came out delicious, every time. Why wouldn't they? I'm real good at listening and you were good at directing, and I miss you and I haven't cooked anything since. Not anything complicated because sometimes being the kitchen it hurts, knowing I can't call you anymore and that damn book, she was dying,and there was nothing that could be done about the cancer, just like in real life. and I should be writing this in my private journal, my new journal, beautiful as it is, but I don't want to. I want to fill that with my hope, and just past these entries once I paste them out into the back of the book, as an afterthought, because that's all they should be to me. Afterthoughts of no real importance, and I should be happy. No real problems now. Nothing holding me back, so why do I keep holding on? I need to let go. I need to just be strong enough to let go.

And I want a cigarette still. and a drink. and maybe a fuck (for which the possibility is too real and oh so tempting). But maybe maybe I'll be strong enough to throw off those urges. maybe not. I just need to breathe.

An epiphany with a song.

Sometimes there is that gem of a song that you have been listening for years because it's a great song on it's own with a sweet beat and nice vocals. And then days, months, years past, and the song is still there being great but then you just find yourself in a place, on a night, listening to music and the song hits you. And it hits you again and again and the lyrics just grabbed at you, and you just find yourself relating and going, I never figured that one day I will be in a situation that I could sing this song with my actual heart behind it. and this was just a cool song and now it means the world. Now it describes me and I just wonder at how the songwriters knew. How they knew that people would find themselves relating to this and what had they gone through in order to be able to write down so well, to capture it, and to form it into a song that just makes you breathe and realized that yes, this song is you, and yes it is other people too in their own way, and that out of everything, that life goes on, and that you're not the only one with those feelings. And now finding myself there with those words. I get it.

Am I more than you bargained for yet
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that's just who I am this week
...
I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song
...
Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team
...
Wishing to be the friction in her jeans
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him
...
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it.
...
Just pull it. Just fucking pull it.
.

I can honestly say I get it. I actually relate, and not just fake relate to it like many teeny-boopers middle schoolers who related to the love game, or who wanted to make a bad romance. No, you don't you're only 11-12 years old, and you don't know what it's like to be a dancer in the dark, and if you do. I'm sorry, but I'm not talking about the exception, I'm talking about the majority, the normal girls.

But I can honestly say that I relate to those lyrics. :/ And I had my motherfucking epiphany, sitting here, typing up my homework, and the song comes on and I'm listening to it, singing along, not even paying much attention to the lyrics when I hear that, I'm (he's) just a notch on your bedpost and he is, you're (I am) just a line in the song, I really am.

If it comes to anything, that is just what he is going to be, and all my potential might be just that but I'm just letting this out. just writing it out, get it out of my system. Because I'm just going to take it as it comes, and let the chips fall where they will, and I'll be right there to step it up.

Destiny is calling me.

Listening to: Mr. Brightside- The Killers, I've just seen a face-The Beatles.

Reading: A scanner darkly- Philip K. Dick.




Truth: I'm scared that it's Just a hookup. And nothing more.

Truth: I'll be okay with that. but not really, and I don't want to get attached and I know I'm overthinking and just let it flow, see where the dice finally land BUT I need to write this out to get it out of my system. To just admit that for once, I don't want it to be just a hookup and I'm scared it is. & it's just going to make me wonder whether I'm just good for hookups but not for dating. There I said it, just a good fuck, nothing else. Is that just going to be me?

I Hope NOT. I really HOPE not, and if it is, if I don't find that person that just meant for me or CP, then I'll know I'll happy and find substitutes for it. Substitutes in my writing, and live out my life to the best without another chance at the big L, and not lust but Love. So I hope and after today, after unbelievable, I saw him, chances of chances on campus, and then ran after him, literally took off and left my best friend calling me a bitch for ditching me (xD I SOWEEE xDDD I love you Mikko, haha) but I just couldn't let it go. i had to go, because i didn't want to live with the regret what if I just let him go, let him walk by. It's that determination that drives me, not towards guys but everything in general, people just don't take opportunities standing still, they go, run, fly after it with their heart and hopes, and I did. & it was nice, beautiful, sweet, rad, cool, nothing out of the ordinary normal conversation between a girl and a guy, two people connecting on a level of knowing something is happening but not knowing what and I was happy to leave it at that, not over think it, over-analyzed and just get his number and he has mine.


And then he called me. Tonight, a few hours ago. And I missed it because I wasn't paying attention to my phone and now I'm just thinking, what does he really want? Why is he calling me??? Hookups don't call. They say they're going to call and they don't. & he didn't say anything but bye after exchanging info and "he keeps calling" (me back again) & is it just a hookup? & if it is, then why do I care so much if it is?
I can't. I shouldn't. I know my boundaries way too well, and the only thing I can do is see what tomorrow brings.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

Just play it how it is.

If I just follow my own rules. I should be fine.

The more I talk to guys the more I'm reminded of the reasons why I should play and not become involved.

Seriously, married men. Like what the hell, you have your wife at home, and she's beautiful. You said I do to her, back it up! Idiots!

Older, much older divorce men. Yes, we know you went through a painful divorce. yes, you are single and available and are ready to play because your divorce left you scared. BUT, must you go after girls young enough to be your daughters? Seriously? You're how old? And you're looking for girls in what age? I know, I know, you don't want to discriminate in age but really, now you're just being perverted.I know they joke about me and going after youngsters, but I don't go for guys a decade younger than me at least. Perverts!

And then there are the "single" men. How the hell do you think you're kidding? And are you that dumb? Or do I play being the dumb blond too well? Do you really think I'm that stupid. *roll eyes*. It's obvious you have a girlfriend. If not here in the city, that you're attached to someone, but long distance or not, she's still your girlfriend. You're just losers for being scared of your own relationship. Either play the field right or have enough balls to break up with her before you get caught. Because you will get caught. the game will only come back to hunt you. Cowards!

Then there are actually single guys. Le sigh. I understand that at this point, you're all have been attached at one point with someone pretty serious. But just because you had bad experiences means that shouldn't try again. Grow some balls guys, there are plenty of single girls who would love to have you.

Me included eventually. As soon as I find that the hand that mine fits into. That and when I stop thinking of that guy I met through my hookup. That'll fade out, I hope.

Rules:

1.No playing with guys who are married/engaged/are boyfriends (attached)

2. No one older than 6 years or younger than 4.

3. No one shorter than me. No one of a smaller body frame (to an extent)

4. No latinos. Sorry, don't do my own race, I know them too well.

5. No one into drugs. (smokers okay. drinkers not so much.)

6. No fucktards. No creeps. If you give me the weirdo vibe, bye.

7. No one too good looking because they know how well they look and I don't need to feel that you're thinking you're having sympathy sex with me. Um-no. Also because you're so good looking, I know you're taking advantage of that and your numbers tend to run double digits. No thank you on the STD's either. Average guys are better anyway.

8. No dorks. Just because I tend to get attached to you. (case in point: hookup's best friend >_> goodlord why do I keep thinking of him?! -_- Boo. Just thumbs down. Is it bad that I'm hoping to bump into him when Spring semester starts? I've never blogged this much about a guy. Why him? he probably has a girlfriends. Dorks like him always do. And besides I played with his friend. -_-

The retracted rule that was formerly rule #9: No hooking up with friends of hook ups.

It gets weird fast. But only if your original hook up is a douchebag. I'm better playing this by ear and see how it develops because sometimes this opens up alot of guys :P But a must is keeping it to yourself unless you want drama by comparison. Sometimes it's nice to be known as easy and sometimes it's not.

Just see how it goes.

Just don't.

I'm acting out against my own stupidity. About to make another mistake, one I will regret. Breaking another rule just because I developed a crush on the friend of my hookup and hating myself for it does not mean that I have to act out against it and find myself some even more extreme action to get my mind off it.

The extreme action: a married man. and he keeps talking to me.

I keep thinking of who am I becoming. Flirting with a married man. How stupid have I become and I just hate my ex for making me into this person. By making me feel so insecure about myself that I need to feel that I have to prove to myself that I can do this, can do that, prove that I can be anyone I want to be and have anyone I want, including married men and women.

Just because he left me for her. Just like the song, nothing can save me now.

and the only hope I had to redeem myself, I only fuck it up by hooking up with his friend. FML. the girlfriend was right, just like always. And I hate it.

I just hope that after I come out of this, by myself, that the people important to me will still be here, no matter how much I fuck up, or more precisecly who I fuck.

I don't need to be judged. I judge myself. i admit to my mistakes, harder on myself than the words of anyone else because it hurts. hurts knowing I might have blown my chance at something by burning through the game. The point of the game is no attachment, so how did I end up liking his friend. -_-

I'm just going to fade out into my books. Fini.

Have you no shame, unfaithful heart?

Why him? Is he another one of those bajillion crushes I had on campus this semester? How many guys, just how many did I check out and developed a physical crush for? And then not counting them, I also crushed on many of my classmates, girls and guys.

And then this week comes along. At one point or another I have been smitten, became fascinated with four guys, (guy)Number 9, guy in class, librarian, and now him. Am I just going to think about him and forget all about him tomorrow? Just anothe bypassing interest.

He's a bit different. I talked to him for awhile, we connected in that sort of connection you have once in awhile with a stranger. He spoke to me in Spanish at one point, completely took me by surprise. I like him better than Number 9 because he didn't have that edge that Number 9 does. The edge of a player, of a too selfish guy. Maybe because aside from classmates who treats me like a girl and not a lovegamer. Maybe I just like the idea of him.

But guys like him always have girls, pretty petite indie girls with braids in their hair and quirky music taste.


But I'm distracted and I'm thinking tomorrow or something Sunday if I'm still thinking about him I will resolved this. I will text Number 9 & either ask him whether friends are offlimits or ? at least his name.

Nothing crazily extraordinary happened today

so why am I blogging again? especially since I have an essay due in t-minus 24 hours. I don't know, whatever. I got it.

I had a nice day, one of those days I wished I had more of. Not exciting but still pretty good. Had a scrumptious breakfast of a shrimp omelette with a side of plaintains and banana with hot chocolate, talk about mixing up a culture.

Got ready for school, felt pretty good about how I looked, went to school.
Saw two of my best buddies, talk, gossip, ate with one of them, Dana, walked the other, Mikko to his bus but not in that order. Went to the library, finish my presentation, gave my presentation (I taught the class, woot woot), established the start of a new friendship, her name is Christina and I am so looking forward to getting to know her.

I could feel her loneliness for friends. Just like I felt Brandon's long ago in high school, and maybe Mikko's too, which is why I walked by every morning, because the mexican clique was a clique but there were other places I could have gone so easily. But I still went to sit down next to the panda every single time.

When I saw Christina, working the desk, and was like Hi :) and started talking to her, and this is only my third time talking to her but I just knew that I had to do something. So I did. I gave her my number. My email, and she got this HUGE grin on her face. The type you get when your friend calls you up to meet you at school, and when you do, surprise they brought you homemade italian sausage, just for you. (Still want pumpkin pie though xD)

I don't think she makes many friends, or easily but I see no biggie in it. And guess what, rigth after I left to walk Dana to her appointment and headed back to the library to finish my presentation, I open my email and there was Christina, already emailing me. Saying hello, how are you, and whether I lived here (in state), and how were my finals, and yeah totally new friend there.

So I answered and started doing my presentation, finish it, went to class, taught class. Everyone is real encouraging in that class, I love it, the only thing I would change is him. He looked wonderful today. Wearing a dressy shirt, freshly shaven, just looking real spiffy, and I guess I look better than I thoguht I did. I kept catching him staring at me. BAD. BAD.BAD. Just NO. As much as I want to, N-O. he has a girlfriend, and their serious, and he talks about her all the damn time, and it's probably just the fact that's he's a reader, and that he's Italian, and that he's a writer, and the way he writes, I just want to. But I won't. And he reminds me of Christopher in a very male reader, dork manner, and NO. Maybe. No. How many times did I catch him looking at me? And every time, I pretended disinterest beyond academic wise. And I don't know why this is bothering me so damn much. I thoguht I put him out of my head because he's OFFLIMITS. I know that. It's not even physical attraction, it's mental. And I was nervous presenting, because of him. Sure Stephanie, be nervous around him, but not around any other guy who you can just fuck and leave within a day, withing an hour, withing less of knowing them. You can play the game real well, but love, forget it. And I have to forget him. I think i will after I'm done purging. He's a reader, I'm reader, he's a writer, I'm a writer, and it will never happen.

That! That is what's bothering me. >_> >_______________< Blah, hate stupid no-sense at all crushes. I'll forget. I have to.

it's just a stupid longing for that person just for me.


Yesterday I held hands with the guy I hookup with on campus. Our hands didn't fit. His too short and thick, mine too long and thin. Emotionally our hands won't fit either, anything more than a hookup/friend, and I know that after a few months, I will get tired of his bullshit and bolt. That and add the fact that before I met hookup guy I met his best friend who I talk to easily, too easily. I hope I'll bump into him on campus in the spring or that my hookup guy will text me to bullshit around so I can ask him if friends are off limits. Even if his friend is just another hookup, it's just some people you just have to try out (when single ONLY ofcourse!)

And that what brings me to another thought that nags at me. I was reading Glass by Ellen Hopkins (finished it) don't ask me why I'm reading and writing when I have an essay due like a huge academic essay with citations due on Friday -_- ugh whatever. I'll do what I want. I got it. But I was reading Glass when I came across:

I want to ask if he's been with other girls.
[Don't] Need to ask.
[No.]
I have to know. [No, you don't]

And when I was in the middle of hooking up, I started biting his neck. He told me now. it's alright. I back off, there's only two reasons why guys don't want hickeys.

1. They either are huge players and don't want their other game to see hickeys (Hookup guy is NOT a player. That I can read. he can play the game, but he's not the type to have a museum of lovers)

and 2. They have a girlfriend to go home to.

It's over. I hooked up.

Hello, let's meet, hello, let's play, you got yours? I got mine, allrighty bye.

I shouldn't care. But I do. I almost asked him right there and then, "do you have a girlfriend?" but I didn't. I don't want to know the answer. I might have hurt him because of what my ex did to me.

And when I read that today after having hookup yesterday with a guy who possibly has a girlfriend (more than willing to bet about it) waiting for him to go home for winter break. That question unnerves me. I want to ask [but I won't] because I really don't have to know. I don't want the guilt of knowing that once upon a time, I hooked up and he already had a girlfriend. Made that mistake already with a fake. liar. cheat. guy who gave me my first kiss years and years ago. He had a Long time girlfriend, they got married, they didn't have kids. they're now divorce. And I, me, I was the other woman. And she, I knew who she was but I believe him when he said it was over, but it wasn't and I dropped him and it only hurt me one day and I was done. And knew that he was nothing to cry over about and within 3 months of getting my first kiss, I started playing the game. No need for attachment. & I'm not attached to hook up guy (maybe just a bit his cutie friend who I like a bit too much) but BUT the suspicion of being the other woman, the guilt of it is there too.

And all I have echoing in my damn head is need to ask. {NO} Have to know [No, you don't] but like the song in the concert version.

But I should of have thought of that before we fucked! FUCK!

If he texts me, i promise that I will only make it right by asking about his friend (because I owe myself that, non-hookup or otherwise) and before I say yes to hooking up, I will ask if he has a girlfriend. IF we hookup again. He wasn't a spectacular lover. he ranks 3rd. it was rough, and I suspect the alcohol and cigs (maybe the nervousness about cheating? hope not) are taking a toll on his performance (I learn WAYYYYY too much in sex education and know way too much about sex and the body to not noticed. other girls might not but I did. I know)

He ranks 3rd. Out of um... UHhh. can't count. xD Mostly for durability and willing to the get-go. As well as being a gentleman hookup if there is such a thing. Hmm.

But is he really a gentlemen when he has a {possibly} girl (HOPE NOT) at home?

And all I wanted was a simple kind of life. I don't know how it got to this point.
When I envision myself as a lovegamer back in high school with loser self dreaming about it. i didn't realized how complicated, loving and leaving could be. sometimes.

The longer that I wait (for a special guy) the more selfish that I get (meaning I don't want one as much, will he (if I ever get there again, in a relationship) hurt me?)

Just another reason to keep writing, it's better that way, just going back to my writing now. And another reason to dream of him, the boy of my dreams, in all his unglamorous wardrobe, and geeky little square glasses, and eager "Oh boy!" lingo.

One day.

Can't believe I did that.

I saw a Matt Damon/Ethan Hawke lookalike Blond at school.

He was sitting not too far away from me in the student union.

I was writing and when he left. I did too. But not before writing a note. With my number in it.

Yes. I did it. I gave it to him. At first I wasn't going to do it and wrote it just to prove to myself that I can do it. I was going to toss my note. So to make this more coherent for whoever really reads this, which is probably no one, seeing as the end of the semester tends to make us a bit crazy with all the homework and upcoming holidays.

But I'll give you the story straight now, just so I can come down off my rush.

I walked into the union. I need a place to sit and to put down my stuff. I go to the 2nd floor bathroom first and scout out the first floor for the best spot to sit at. (meaning where I would get most noticed...Yes I admit that because today I feel wonderfully confident. Beautiful even, and I want everyone to see me. & If I don't enjoy these days, then when I get old. I will regret not being like this.

SO anyhow, I scouted out the first floor, got out of the bathroom, went downstairs, walk, sat down from the cutie. I took out my writing and wrote while I glanced over occasionally to see him. Creepy, stalkerish much? yes, but it's only because I was so shy of myself, so self conscious in high school that to talk to a boy who I liked was impossible, among other things impossible were wearing anything that was below my collarbone,and I hid behind my books, baggy clothes, and more books.

So I am making up by missing all those years of never going out. Never having anyone to talk with. never having friends. I am determine to take over the world now and make it mine. One cutie at a time.

So He left and I packed up my stuff and I lost him. I didn't know where he went. So I continue walking around went outside, saw the night rolling on by. Then realized it was too early for me to leave still so I made a U-turn back to the union. I was walking in the walkway when I see him. Coming at me, going the opposite direction. It was now or never. Now or forget about it. Now or spend the whole semester to keeping an eye for him and going HE's CUTE! to Mikko and just whining about how no guys ever notice me and bitching about how I miss making out.

Not tonight. I said hey, he gave me a random look, and I gave him the note, and he reached out to take it. yahoo face. I smiled and said bye.
I left, walking walkign walking, ducking into the nearest building and that was that. And then I truly smiled at myself. I caught a reflection of myself on the doors, saw how I look, and thought, how far have I come, I have developed as a person. And I know that in a few years I will look back at myself now and think that I have developed myself more as person too.

No regrets. Not anymore.

I don't expect him to call. or text. It's okay. it's up to him. it's his call now, really it is, and whether he does or not won't affect me. because I know who I am now, and I have the confidence to be that person that I always wanted to be when I was a teen. I have the courage to be myself now, and I won't let myself lose that again.

If I see him around, I'll wink at him.

;)

Are you in the game?

........

It's all in good fun and games. Loving, lusting, with no abandoned. Not caring to get to know someone else beyond their bodies and gorgeous faces. Sexual crushes, turn realities, saying goodbye after a little bit of play and never hearing from them again and not wanting to. It create a sense of power, a sense of freedom, a sense of edginess, to contrast with the softness. It creates sway. But too much sway leaves one well alone. in times of solitude, in times of reminiscing, the game become dark. The lust, the allure, the intimate strangers, the pretty faces, the sculpted bodies, all lose their luster, their charm, the kisses become vague in memory because there is no meaning behind it either than the temporary passion that fueled it. The needs become satisfied and it loses it appealed. It becomes a reflection of the self, of being inadequate. Of not being the norm in a relationship, not wanting a relationship, being too selfish to want to get involved, and too selfish to give oneself to another, the only person worth that is conveniently unavailable. Contrasting how in a relationship, the self, takes a back seat to the relationship. How in a relationship, every game rule is thrown out the window, the countless chances of infidelity present and slapped away chastely least they threaten the relationship. And when not in a relationship, how different life is not being loyal to one person. How much more do guys and girls available for play are more present, are just there, where before they were just other people, part of the background, because the one and only took up my vision. Now returned lingering glances, little smiles, slightly provocative stances take on a whole new meaning, and don't because it's just lust. Just a game, really a love game. Lady Gaga got it right when she summed it up, because sometimes it is about lust, and only that, most of the time, but other times, it's just haunting. The lovegame for all its sway, power, haunts. It follows you down your exploits, the thoughts of doing it again and again, of being a slut, a whore, a lover, of affairs, haunts. It follows you up and down in the halls, in every time you dress, just swallows you up in the power and loneliness of it all. Follows you as you put on your makeup, as you chose your outfits for the day or night, and just think to yourself, I wonder who will I end up kissing, making out, frenching, biting by the end of the night, and then that last thought, Doesn't matter that much, I'm not going to see them tomorrow or any time soon after tonight anyway. The games makes you take a good look at yourself. In what you're doing and asks you every time, do you really want to play?

I know that's why I loved this remix of lovegame. When the original song came out, it was thrusted at me, force on me, the song never hearing it before, I got it sent by my friends, by those who know me best, saying, wow, Stephanie this song reminds me of you. It's so you! With that chorus of being on a mission, of wanting to kiss, of playing that damn game always, never turning down a ride on the disco. Complicated and stupid indeed. The original displays all the power of the game, all the gun, the lust, the sex. But the remix. The robots to mars remix. The remix has my heart. It shows the other side of the game. The side rarely seen but felt by all those who frolic. When I heard it, I was skeptical, and as I heard it more I appreciated it more for its contrasting melody with the lyrics. When I saw it paired with the original video. For me, the first 40 seconds of the video showed the distorted reality of it, I could hear the echoes of the original as Lady Gaga danced, but I saw the vulnerability of hers through this new sounds, seen especially in her fleeting looks of her jewel encrusted body. Vulnerability seen in the heart of the game, but only for three seconds.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrCDPZB_nkw