Clarity...

Something that I'm not sure everyone understood, at the time and still, is that Luke was really nothing. He was cute sure and I was intense attracted to him but he was a safety, a throw away. There was this understanding. I was lonely, he was lonely and we could be together. No "love" no visions of a future wedding. Just be young and have fun. Together. Plus he was woah into me which was, frankly, addictive. I couldn't really talk to him about anything other than music seriously. So I was totally aware that it wouldn't last. But I figured I would be the one to pull the trigger. I would be the one to say "this isn't working". Finally I would have a little more balance in a relationship. I was so upset afterwards because... it didn't work out. I'd been tricked. Again. I had lost. Again. And everyone knew I had the short end of the stick. Again. I knew a lot of people thought I was seriously seriously interested in Luke. And I was embarrassed. Especially because one of those people I really respected, admired, and was into. But he was out of my league from day one and so not interested in me. Probably even into my hot friend (isn't that the way it always happens?).

But then... something happened. Something shifted. And I thought... maybe there was... a possibility? A hope that this really cute, incredibly funny, insanely intelligent, amazingly sweet person might like me back. And things happened. And because I was so so so aware that he was so so so amazing and the sting from my supposed safety fling from earlier that summer kept me from asking him exactly what was happening. Exactly how he felt about me and the whole thing and I convinced myself that it was just some drunken thing that happened. A few times. And that he probably never was into me. And suddenly he wasnt. Or maybe he was. Or maybe he just was picking up signals from me and backed off. Who knows where everything started. But it ended in awkwardness and he left. And I convinced myself that he was really just a friend and that what happened was awkward but he would come back and we could be friends again. And truly that is all I want at this point. All I could hope for. But the thing is. I saw him again. And I got butterflies. Just like that first time I realized that I was into him. Walking between him and my then-boyfriend-of-a-year and thinking to myself *shut UP andrew!* because I just wanted to be alone talking to this boy who thought my awkward hiccups were awesome because they sounded like dinosaurs. I remember even walking sideways so I could look at him and having butterflies that I had never ahd with my boyfriend and thinking what am I doing? I just realized that it's 2 years later and I still don't even know. Except for one thing. I miss my friend. The one who found me in a bathroom crying because I missed my dad and did everything he could to make me feel better. The one that I randomly telephone-rick-rolld and then talked to for like a half an hour. The one that used to come find me on the trampoline at 2 am and wait for me to finish so he could walk me back inside. And I really want to just sit down and ask him. What happened? What was your side? Did you realize when I was trying to communicate with you in my awkward indirect way? Why did you like me and why did you stop if you did at all? And this isn't just because I want to know with him but also because I want to know in general what goes on in my relationships with guys, from the other end. Cause honestly. This is sort of what happens to me repeatedly. And I just want to know what goes on for the guys and well, he is the only one I'm still on speaking terms with haha. Anyways.



Another realization I had. Or not really this new idea of OHMYGOD I NEVER REALIZED! but like wow... this is something that happens more often than I would have thought. I lie. To strangers. A lot. I have dozens of little stories. Of where I go to college, of places I have traveled, of my flings, of my experiences. They never become my friends, thank god, or else I would have a hell of a time explaining that my fiance who proposed to me right before we graduated on a trip to half moon bay in the most romantic way, isn't real. That I've never done a fashion show in the meat packing district in New York, That I am only 19 and not 20-24. That I don't go to Berkeley or Boston University. I guess it just gives me a chance to live out the life that I wish I was living. Happy and learning and busy and loved. So so loved.
I'm afraid I'm destined to be a Mad Men wife. And I'm maybe okay with that. Which scares me.

Anyways. I'm not positive what the point of all this was. But that's almost all of the thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head this week.