Chaos

I feel like all I do anymore is cry.

I cry, at least once a week, for anywhere from a few minutes to half a day, over this guy, which, according to all the teen films from yesteryear, is the only indication you need to realize that he is not worth your time. Is he a human or an onion? I don't know, I never see him.

The tables have turned, I care too much, I feel too much, I worry too much, I stress out, I crash, I burn, and I end up in tears.

I hate this feeling.

I hate feeling insecure. I hate people who make me feel insecure, and with that correlative property, I must hate him. But I don't hate him, I obviously don't, because if that were the case I wouldn't be so damn anxious every time I send him a text. I wouldn't wake up in the morning and beg to see a message from him. I wouldn't anticipate dates with him like they were the only thing that mattered in my world. I wouldn't feel, the way I feel, the panic that encompasses me, when I start to feel him slipping away.

I like him. A lot. Too much. So much, that it hurts me, because I don't know if he feels the same way. We live in a generation where people utilize these "dynamic relationships" as a means to waste away their time, as a means to have something to do when they're bored, as an easy way to get laid.

But I don't want that. I want emotional attachment. I want a relationship, a real one, one where I can feel confident in my place, confident in what we have, where I can rightfully freak out over the idea that he might be seeing other people, even if he isn't.

Because no matter how much I try to suppress it, I am not a chill person. A chill woman doesn't exist. There is no such thing as a cool girl, as the movie "Gone Girl" so aptly put it. That's an illusion that men desire as a means to get away with fucking up-they want someone who's chill enough to understand their views and desires and mistakes and stupid, stupid actions, someone who'll only be there when they want and a ghost otherwise.

But I can't do that. I can't just feel secure when there is NOTHING proving that I should. When everything is so far away, when he's so far away, when I'm the one who's texting first, when I'm the one making plans, when I'm the one who feels like I'm putting in all this effort, and for him, it's a situation of convenience. Am I not worth making time for? Is that why?

I hate him. But I also really don't. And it's such a fucking struggle, it's a struggle, because most of this is internal imbalance, is my own turmoil, or is it? I don't know. I don't fucking know.