She's on the phone with me. This girl I like. Liked. Well, if you want to go past tense about things, loved. Maybe, I'm trying to figure that one out. But I'm on the phone with this girl that I have some sort of feelings for, the same girl that did some pretty cagey things on a so called trip to see me. And that's very much a thing.
Another thing, another very big thing, is that she's now dating a guy she apparently loves. That's definitely a thing that sucks. A lot. So yeah, here I am, on my bed, talking to a girl that knows I have feelings for her, and knows that I know that she doesn't and won't reciprocate said feelings.
That was a sweet sentence.
But life, sadly, isn't directed by the sweetness of the last sentence that you wrote. A shame, but that's life. It's hard to say what life is directed by, to be honest. As far as I can tell lately, it's guided by how I feel about what people feel about me. Something like that. Lately, one specific person, who I'm on the phone with, and who I can and never could make heads or tales about what she thinks, despite what she says and what I claim to think.
I'm sticking by that one, no matter the grammatical correctness of it.
Honestly though, I wish I could believe the things she tells me, good and bad, because then at least there would be a little bit of consistency to the thing. But the girl is so... So baffling. On a lot of levels. She's kind of annoying sometimes, she can never make up her mind, she's needy, but complains when you help her. She jerks me and other guys around, intentionally or not. She's probably reading this, and before she get's mad she'll hopefully make it to the next paragraph.
But something about her is different. Something about her is mad appealing. But it's that same thing that's gotten me hurt twice before, one before the summer and one just this week. And yet, it's that thing that keeps me coming back, keeps me wanting her in my life.
Yeah, I'm a bit of a mess.
I'm a lot of things though, and here's the part where I do some sort of potentially vapid introduction thing. I'm 20 year old who loves to write, loves to drum, loves to pretend he can sing and play guitar, loves to writes and listen to music that a lot of people don't like. I like to love. Love to love. That's another thing I'm still working on.
And I'm also a good worker. Dependable, I'm the kind of guy that works minimum wage, but will do more than the managers making not a lot more I recently found out. I was going to be one, but I turned it down. Could have and in a few days will be making more money stocking up the meat section at my local (read: thirty minutes away) Wal-mart. So I'm probably also some sort of corporatist bastard, but these things happen.
Until then, and for two more days, I'm the cook at my local (slightly closer) Dairy Queen. When I say the cook, I'm not the only one, but I'm the only one that's worth my weight in salt for fries. That sort of makes sense.
Naturally, there's a lot more to me than what meets the black pixels over white pixels forming words about some random internet person and/or facebook friend you probably don't know very much. But this is starting to get long winded. I'll get more in depth about myself, my current lady-related issue, and where this blog thing is going to go. I've got plans, baby, big plans that will take story telling by storm.
Until tomorrow, or until the next time I write,
The Potentially Auspicious Writer
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