I guess this is weird because *technically* (with the exception of dating someone in between) I’ve been involved with Cameron for the past year. Almost. It’ll be a year in January. It almost feels too weird. I guess I don’t really believe it because nothing has really lasted that long in my life, and also— he’s someone I take for granted. Is that not the worst thing I could have said?  Granted, I love Cameron as a person. He is one of the sweetest men I have ever met. He’s quite chivalrous, and I’m sure he’ll be an amazing boyfriend to someone one day. But, since he lives all the way in Australia (and hates air travel), I don’t really see a way we can effectively “date.” Otherwise, great. I’d totally date him, and he’d treat me well.

But being with him would be boring. It’d be a relatively “safe” relationship, and although I used to love being in those… they aren’t interesting. I’m sorry, but aren’t relationships supposed to come with a tiny bit of excitement? I guess I’m just a douchebag because I love the chase. With Cameron, I know he’ll always be around, even when he’s not— so it’s easy to be with him. It’s just easy to get him to want me again, even when he’s dating someone else.

That said, no one should ever treat another human being the way I treat Cameron. Half of me abhors the way I treat him, the other half only does it because that half is lonely. I am aware that I am a manipulative bitch. I don’t know. I just feel so bad, because it’s just too easy to get him back. 

I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON, I AM AWARE OF THIS.

My life is a lie ahahaha. Fuuuuck. He’ll text me in the morning. OK BYE.

Disclaimer: If you probably haven’t already figured this out, I’m planning on transferring out of my school. So stop your bitching. You can read this if you want to. It’s quite funny.

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I guess I can admit it now, since it’s basically over. But yeah, I guess I can write it down now and shout it to the world: I’m single again. I mean, I should have been expecting it, but to be perfectly honest with you— I’m not as upset as I thought I’d be. I’m more disappointed than anything, and it hurts, but I’m surprised that it hasn’t led me to another man’s bed, or in the arms of someone else. Usually when breakups happen, I end up going through what I call my ‘slutty’ phase. Now, I can be the first to reluctantly subscribe to the motto, “To get over someone, you have to get under someone else,” (also meaning that I don’t exactly manage to follow proper coping mechanisms) however, with this breakup, I haven’t followed the normal routine. I’ve literally just been sitting, writing, reading, pouring myself into my work, as well as watching videos of adorable, chubby dogs. 

But why this reaction? Why am I not as upset as I normally am? Why am I not crying or screaming or being completely empty and void of emotion whatsoever? I didn’t realize it until tonight but it’s because for the first time in a relationship: I did nothing wrong. The demise of this relationship was not my fault at all. I am completely blameless this time. If anything, my only flaws were that I was too honest, too open and communicative, I was too insecure, but I never once projected those insecurities onto our relationship. I find it to be incredibly odd that I didn’t run away once, I didn’t hide from a good thing: I dipped my toes reluctantly, in disbelief, then I managed to jump in. For as short as this relationship was, this was one of the most mature relationships I have ever been in. Short, fleeting, but incredibly beautiful. I think of that quote from Greek (even though that show reminds me of Brandon, but that’s another story to save for another day), the one that talks about how love stories may be short, but they’re still love stories all the same. 

The funny thing is, usually I end up leaving if I feel too insecure in a relationship. I leave before I’m left, because I’m too scared that I’ll be hurt, so I end up wanting to let myself hurt before the other person can hurt me. This didn’t happen. I stuck around. I made a huge effort. I quite literally hopped a plane and tried to visit you (and did I hear from you? Not at all.) I opened myself up one stitch at a time, and let you in. I told you about me and let you know everything about me: the good, the bad, and the ugly. While I can keep on claiming that our relationship was effortless, it certainly was not. I had to take down the barricade in order to let you in, and that took a lot of work for me, because I had to learn how to trust you. It felt like there was no effort between us, but there was. I gave, but so did you. There were a lot of firsts in our relationship: this was the first time I wasn’t really scared. It is an unusual feeling to describe, this feeling of being so safe, so secure. There was also the first time I felt comfortable talking about marriage, children, starting a family, my future, etc. with someone. Agreeing and disagreeing, arguing about what our points of views, and having serious talks about this kind of stuff. It’s all stuff that I never talked about in great lengths with other boyfriends, simply due to my views on those topics and how scared I am of the future. So, for that I guess I have to thank you for as well.

But the demise of this relationship is your fault. And I don’t say that to make you sound like the bad guy. No one was the “bad guy” in the relationship. However, sometimes life happens and people change, and people do stupid shit. In the process, priorities shift and I didn’t end up becoming one of the higher ones. I can’t expect myself to be one of them when you can’t even take care of yourself, so I get it. You cannot love someone with your full self if you don’t even know who you are. If you cannot even take care of yourself, then how are you expected to take care of yourself? You have your issues, and I have mine, and the communication broke down. I suppose along the way, someone stopped trying to contact, and this is where we arrived: it’s over. There’s still so much love in my heart that is dedicated to you, but it’s come to the point in my life where I can consider myself in a long-term relationship, and you’re nowhere near ready for that in your state of being. You say you are, but you are still very, very young. We both are. And you’re depressive and I cannot keep an eye on you without worrying that you’re going to do something completely destructive. I’m too worried all the time, and I have to stop because it’s going to end up being the thing that kills me.

I wish I could say that love is enough to keep a relationship alive, but unfortunately it is not. A person can do everything right, and something will manage to fall apart. Murphy’s Law, correct? I want to thank you for teaching me how to love fully, how to give a part of myself when a lot of myself is damaged beyond repair, how to fix myself and learn to love again, and most of all, for giving me what I deserve. You taught me how to love myself, and how to expect more for myself, how to have higher expectations of various men, and not to settle for anything less than that. So, maybe in ten years, we’ll cross paths again, and we’ll end up together. 

But if not, I know I can take comfort in the lessons I learned and the memories we shared. It will definitely take me time to let the whole thing go, but I’ve definitely said my peace.

After the trainwreck I like to call “Andrew,” I decided to take things at face value, and have people take me at face value as well. My life motto at its simplest is: “Fuck it.” I am generally apathetic about most things in life, and seem to form little to no opinion because there’s a big chance I’m going to yell out, “Fuck it,” to it anyway. I really can’t be fucked to care sometimes, and other times I just know that life is short, so I might as well do it anyway.

I say “fuck it” to new experiences because God knows (as well as I do) that life is too fucking short. Yes, I will probably piss my pants if I go into that haunted house or ride that roller coaster. Yes, I’ll probably get kicked out for punching that bitch in the face. But hey! Life is way too short to be scared of everything. We spend more time dead than we do alive— we also spend 1/3 of our lives asleep. So why not wake the fuck up and do something productive? (Or not productive.) I’m not saying that you should go out and do every fucking thing possible on the god damn planet— I’m saying, if there’s something out there for you to do, why not try it? Try something new. 

I say “fuck it” to relationships because if someone can’t stand to eventually appreciate all my flaws and quirks: then why should I be with them? I never go out of my way to impress anyone because people that are truly worth your time (and those you should really be spending time with) are the ones that love you for everything you are. They are the ones who are probably going to end up stuck in jail with you, and the ones who drive you to get Mexican or Indian food when you’re having pseudo-pregnant cravings. And truly, when you get down to actually spending  your time with someone and wanting to commit yourself to them (at least for a short period of time), don’t you want someone who will love you enough to respect you when you do something that bothers them? Yes, there are all these flaws inherently born within us, but if it’s that bad, a good person will respectfully tell you what’s bothering them— and from there you can either accept it or not. 

I say “fuck it” to basically everything, because it keeps me from being hurt, or from getting too deep with people. There are very few times where I won’t say “fuck it,” and I’ll actually allow myself to care. As much as it pains me to say this, but I wish I allowed myself to do this more often. I would be able to keep up more functional relationships and friendships if I just allowed myself to care deeply about people that I want to keep close to me. Sometimes, the whole “fuck it” thing steers people away.

And that’s what I’m doing with you.

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let me preface this with the fact that I’ve had many many many boyfriends/guys I have dated who have made me go through a lot of shit. 90% of these things will make me look like a crazy bitch, but honestly I really don’t give a flying fuck because you don’t know my life. 

can I ask you a favor? a few favors actually, things that will probably save our relationship in the end. I  mean of course, I am aware that everything has to end eventually. but at least this way I can go into it not expecting anything other than your company— because I have a tendency to romanticize things even when I don’t want to. and then I tend to look at things rather cynically and start to doubt myself. I suppose this is where I should mention my abandonment and commitment issues, but I’m sure you will find that out later on. with that said, can I just take a moment to ask you a few things? because our relationship is going to end faster if you can’t agree to these things. 

okay, first off: please don’t promise me anything. don’t promise me we’re going to last forever (knowing my track record, we won’t) and please please please don’t promise me that you’re never going to leave me (you will.) I can’t handle people who make promises that they can’t keep. and yes, I am fully aware of the notion that promises can always be broken. it’s why you shouldn’t make them. I’m no good with firm commitment anyway, so that’s better for the both of us.

secondly: I don’t give a shit if you don’t use [insert social networking site here/object of technology here] that often. let me put it this way: I. don’t. care. you’re still going to have to add me. no, I don’t care that we’re not officially “in a relationship” on facebook— what I do care about is if you randomly disappear one day and I have no means of communicating with you. I don’t care if you don’t like facebook, I don’t care if you don’t like myspace, I don’t care if you don’t like twitter, I don’t care if you don’t like your telephone or your computer or your webcam: you’re going to have to give me all your means of communication and contact with people. why? because I fucking said so. I mean, shit. I don’t need to know where you are every second of every day, or even where you are every day or what you’re doing. I don’t care. but you can’t just fucking say “oh hey i’ll be back in a week” and then you don’t tell me where you’re going, and after a week I hear nothing from you only to leave me broken hearted with no means of communication and for some guys, it’s not like I can swim across an entire ocean for you. and then you suddenly reappear as soon as I give up on the idea of us, and as soon as I get over you and I become happy again. you boys have like a fucking radar or some shit, I can’t even handle it. if you want to be with me, get with the program, you fuckface. 

thirdly, be completely honest. and I mean completely honest. I don’t give a crap whether or not you like what I look like in a certain outfit: I’m still going to fucking wear it because I feel confident and hot as hell in it. or, if you don’t want to be with me anymore: fine. just fucking say it to my face. don’t be a pussy about that stuff. 

next off, be aware that I’m a “talker.” I like to discuss feelings, especially when things are going rough. I used to be a fighter, then I met this dude who kind of changed everything around for me, and now I’m completely honest and I’d rather be civil about our disagreements. so grow some balls, share your feelings. don’t be afraid to be vulnerable. if you cry, I won’t think you’re a pussy. I find that shit to be very endearing, and we’ll probably screw later. 

I guess I should add this last thing in really quickly because I’m starting to annoy myself at how bitchy and awful I sound. alright— if you’re going to leave, at least give me closure. none of this open-ended bullshit. i’ve dated so many guys who think it’s cool to just come in, and wreak total havoc and just leave. there’s no trace, no note, no nothing. no sign of communication, no apology, no goodbyes. if you’re going to leave, at least give me a goodbye. if you’re going to end things, at least give me an honest reason as to why we’re breaking up. I guess I think this is the most important thing. I can’t tell you how many of my boyfriends have just gone up and left without any hint of remorse, and come back into my life 5 or 6 months later, expecting me to take them back. I really want to believe I’m wiser than that. and you know as well as I do, no matter how bitchy I am: I still deserve to be treated like I’m a human.

thanks future boyfriend, I hope you can stick to these guidelines. I promise our sex will be well worth it if you’re good!

love,

christa

I have to preface this letter with: it’s long. And not long like your supposed 12 inch dick, but hey. It’s close. So, with that, this is an open letter to a boy. There’s a “Read More” link presented because I doubt the majority of my followers want to read a lovesick teenaged girl whining and complaining about a boy (but let’s face it, if you follow me— you know what you’re in for, right?) 

Here is an open letter to a boy that is currently breaking my heart.

And it’s also an open-ended goodbye. We had fun, kid.

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You. A lot of it is you. And I hate half of my blog because 90% of the time when I write something, it’s something about a boy. And yeah, okay. I’m aware that my mind is fickle and my ADHD sort of manifests itself through men as well, but I can’t help it. I guess it’s because for the majority of the time I’ve dated someone, I’ve always been accustomed to the phrase, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” And after a bunch of guys just suddenly offed and left without leaving any hint or a trace of notice, not even to say goodbye— I got used to it. I got used to being with someone, and then attempting to find a back up because I needed something to show me affection and love and shower me with the attention that I deserve. And then I  met a guy who changed that, and now I know I deserve better than a guy who just leaves without warning, and comes back into my life whenever I’m about to move on or happy again. 

Look, I’m not saying I’m a clingy girl. In fact, I try to be anti-cling, but when I really like a guy— it just happens. I guess I try to hold onto something so tightly because I’m afraid to lose it, and when I grasp on, I know I’ll lose it anyway. So I hold on too tight. But the best part about loving someone is that they feel the exact same way. They never want to leave you, and when they do leave, even for a brief moment, they miss you with everything in their heart. And you know it’s love because you have a sense of security. Security is something that belongs in every relationship. It is also what the majority of my own relationships have lacked until now. 

I guess what I’m saying is: I’ve never really felt this sense of security until now. And I hope that my insecurities are just fake, and they aren’t real, and I hope that I don’t have an impending sense of doom looming over whatever this is between us, but it could be a summer fling for all I know. But, whatever it is— I am afraid for it to end because it is one of the best things I have ever been involved with. Which is why I’m afraid for you to go on your trip tomorrow— I haven’t talked to you in awhile, and I’m so worried about you. I’m worried that you’re going to do something to yourself, or feel like you’re  not worth something because you’re worth the world. It’s late, and I don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess it’s because I miss you, and partly because I feel like the statement “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” is sort of a lie. I’m worried if we don’t talk soon, I’m just gonna dismiss you like every other guy that tends to just up and leave. I guess it’s just because you showed me something different, and I can’t tell if it’s an act, or if it’s real. Because good fucking lord, I’ve felt it to be different, but now that you’re gone it’s kind of like, I hope it wasn’t just a phase and I hope that I get to speak to you soon.

I don’t know. Fuck. 

Falling in love with someone is one of those things that drives me absolutely nuts. Like, what in fuck’s name am I supposed to do with the feeling of giving my heart to someone else? I am obviously very, very happy right now, but at the same time I’m constantly worrying about the thought of him leaving. It’s weird being in such a mature relationship, if I can call it that. I guess what I’m saying is that falling in love makes me absolutely batshit crazy, but in a good way. I like who I am with him. And I know I’ve said it before, but I’m pretty sure I’ve only been in love once or twice before. And this thing is so far beyond that.

I guess this past school year I’ve dated my way through more men than I could handle. But he’s different. I’ve never had a relationship where it’s been so… easy and effortless. There is no need for fighting, because we communicate so well with each other. He and I have been nothing but honest with each other the whole time, and there are no silly games to play with each other. He keeps and takes my feelings and thoughts into consideration at all times. And although I don’t like being treated like a princess, he treats me like I am one. And it’s funny because although all these things should lead me towards boredom— he doesn’t bore me at all. He still makes fun of me, and we joke about things, and we keep each other on our toes. I like who I am with him, I guess. He makes me a better person in the end. 

I guess it’s weird because it’s my first  mature relationship I’ve ever come across in my life. I don’t have to fight with him about anything— and I know a few fights will eventually come across. Not every relationship is perfect, and I’m aware of this. But he’s perfect for me. I don’t know if he’s Mr. Right, and to be perfectly frank, I’m young, I have forever to find Mr. Right. But, I know he’s Mr. Right Now. And I like where we’re at. 

i guess this week has been kind of crazy. there’s a lot of stuff that’s gone down that i just really wish the world would slow down for a second so that i can wrap my head around it.

first off, while i want to write about you and how you  make me crazy, i can’t. i’m slowly starting to let go, i no longer constantly think about you. it comes and goes in waves, and the tide is pretty low. so you have no worries in disappointing me anymore, because you did a long time ago. i feel sad whenever i realize you’re not one of my best friends anymore, but i know it was my fault that we have come to this. 

secondly, i’m starting to work out again so yay!!! i’m so exhausted though emotionally and physically. just. fucking. drained. school and work and other things have kept me from caring about the fact that none of my friends actually make an effort to come and see me. i think i’ve been out with people like three times, and i’m always an afterthought. i literally don’t give a flying fuck anymore, because you’re all in the past. i understand some people have legitimate excuses like work, but some of you don’t. i’m not retarded, i can read your tweets. i can tell you are out with other people and that’s cool. friendship is about give and take and not about convenience, but whatever. don’t expect me to give a fuck about your business anymore. 

and lastly, i visited my grandfather today. he is very old (late 80’s) and basically that statement is implying something but it’s all part of the circle of life and i understand that but all i really want to do when i see him now is hold him and cry because i never know when my last moment with him will be. and i just feel sad because i can’t even understand what he’s saying anymore because he only has like one tooth left and i want to sit there and listen to him all day and talk to him. today he treated me like an actual adult, though at the same time he still told me that i should not have a boyfriend yet because i am studying for my degree. and i laughed and told him no i don’t have one because i’m too busy studying and working hard, though in actuality i’m just 90% sure that no one wants to be with me. my dad was telling me about how he had to go to the hospital on friday because for the first time my grandfather started panicking and he thought he was about to die. and my dad kept telling me about how he started asking his children for forgiveness for all his sins and his demands, and i wanted to cry because i wasn’t even there. and now my grandfather is staying in an extra, spare room by my dad’s office during the weekdays and needs someone to take care of him. and i really want to help out because i have nothing better to do on tuesdays and thursdays. but i’m scared because i’m afraid i’m going to do something wrong and i’m going to cause his demise and i don’t want that to be me. and tonight when i was spending time with him, after i ate dinner, he was just sitting in his room and not moving and he wasn’t responding to my aunt and i think his mucous got lodged again and he couldn’t breathe and i was so scared and i didn’t know what to do. i know he will pass eventually but i don’t want it to be this soon. and now i don’t want to leave for omaha anymore because i’m so scared something will happen when i’m up in school and i won’t get the chance to say goodbye. and though i am terrible at goodbyes, i want to say goodbye to one of the people in my life that i actually care about. because then i might not say my peace and it’ll be a repeat of my freshman year and i’m just worried and scared and when you really love someone all you want to do is keep them safe and make sure everything is alright. i don’t know, i know i’m just ranting now but i want to be five years old again and sit on my grandpa’s lap and have my grandpa pinch my nose and tell me he loves me and tell me not to have a boyfriend because boys ruin your life and distract you from the important things in life. i guess growing up means wishful thinking and nostalgia. today i pretended i was five again, but instead of sitting on my grandfather’s lap, i sat next to him and held him in my arms as i kissed his cheek and told him i loved him. and i will continue to tell him how much i love him for as long as i can.

i don’t know. this has been quite the interesting week.