I’m tired of being disappointed by people.
I can’t really decide whether it’s them misleading me my own misjudgment. Maybe both.
Maybe I assume too quickly. Maybe people need to work on being genuine.
I’m tired of your whining, sniveling, self-pity. And your attempts to gain my affection through sympathy. It’s not going to work. It merely leads to my feeling sorry for you because you’re such an idiotic, dependent whiner with no self-esteem. You shower compliments upon me, vaguely dis others, and expound on your boring life, lack of things to do, and make not-so-subtle hints about how you want a “cuddle buddy”. Fuck you. I am not and will never be your “cuddle buddy”. Go find some brainless, bored, smoker bitch to cuddle with you to your lame-ass shows. Stop with your useless apostrophes and your attempts to be charming and funny. It’s not working.
I thought you were pretty cool and worth getting to know. And you might still be. But right now, your snide little comments are wearing thin on my patience. When I say that I’m studying with my friend don’t call us “lovebirds”. I don’t think we’re familiar enough to be kidding around like that. Because it’s turning me off. When I say that I can’t talk on the phone because I’m with people, you can assume I’m with a guy and don’t want to tell you. But don’t say that to me! Sheesh. We’re not close friends, we’re not dating, we’re not anything! It’s getting annoying. Stop. And unfortunately, we’re not even close enough that I can tell you that! You’ll just play it off like you were kidding and I’m overreacting. OH-EM-FUCKING-GEE.
I thought I valued fierce independence. Then, I thought I valued about fifty-percent dependence. Now I know that there’s a delicate balance that only some people have. Pardon my psychology and queer (not gay-queer) analysis. I think that everyone prefers certain amounts (i.e. percentages, extents) of characteristics in another person. And it’s not always black or white or even known to them. It’s something you figure out through observation, but mainly through trial and error. And it’s slow. By gosh, it’s slow. It’s taken me about three years to determine just one aspect for myself. — Though I feel the need to point out (mostly to myself) that it’s not all that important. When you click, you click. All of that shit that you’ve “learned” about what you “like” ceases to matter.