It’s been quite some time since my last post. Again, it seems as if grad school has taken over. But I suppose that’s how it’s suppose to be. Anyhow, from my past post, the situation has change. Well that’s clearly an understatement. I no longer care for that guy…well to be honest, it was more that it clearly wasn’t going to pan out and homeboy here had to move on. Or else it would have been desperately sad. That’s right people, I’m growing up and moving on with my life. Riveting, I know. I’ve also started to work out. I somehow managed to gain some weight and be the victim of unsightly bulges (and not the good kind) so hopefully I’ll be able to slim down again.
I think as a result of my exerciseness, I’ve definitely gotten happier. My wallowing in the crap hole has more or less stopped. Now I’m more stressed out about school and my family than really about stupid personal ish that I wasn’t getting over. Now that I was able to move on from such a low point, it seems that life has bitch slapped me once more. Recently my mother has been extra naggy and now I’m somehow more superficial about my own looks (please contain your laughter…and stop rolling on the floor).
I was taking a shower last night and I usually don't pay much attention to the mirror. I’m just in there to get clean and get out of there so I can finish up my work. Kinda sad really, I’m so busy with school. But last night I finally caught my reflection in the mirror—particularly the follicly challenged part of my head. It wasn’t a pretty sight. At the age of 22, this wasn’t what I thought I was suppose to look like. I mean, sure, genes play a great deal in this sort of stuff, but I never thought I’d be a prematurely bald twenty-something. I usually don’t fret about this stuff…..okay, who am I kidding, of course I do, but I somehow manage to just brush it off. And no matter how much I can see that other people have their insecurities, it’s still just not enough I guess. That sounds really bad, but it’s true. Everyone revels in a little schadenfruede from time to time. It’s only natural.
I guess this doesn’t help that when I log onto downelink, it makes me feel like an impossible poser. I mean, really. Who am I kidding? Can I really compete with these cut fit gorgeous men? No. But then my friends are quick to point out that they’re just that—fluff. Not much more than beautiful superficial people that has no substance. And yet, there are still some people who have someone and I just wonder: I’ve dated enough losers and freaks and wierdos that it’s time that I finally found someone of my own, no? I mean, how much more of this can one person take?
Then again, I’m not quite sure where this is coming from. As of late, my heart has again flopped to the other side of I-don’t-want-to-be-in-a-relationship. I gotta admit though, having someone just hold you in their arms is very comforting. But if there’s no substance behind it and it’s just some stranger, is it really worth it? Sure, I mean, I dream of meeting someone that’ll sweep me off my feet and romance me and make me fall hard. It’s everyone’s dream. But it just seems so unlikely that it’ll never happen. Aren’t these things of fiction? This is what romantic comedies and Korean dramas are made of. I know that I want more. I know that I deserve the best, but there’s always that little nagging voice in the back of my head that asks “but are you really?”
Not to be one of those superficial crazies (but really, we all are no matter how much we deride “that crowd”) it seems like even ugly people are able to find the right one, and yet…and yet some of us are just left in the dust.
I saw this guy’s profile on OKC and he’s the gorgeous, incredible sexy man. Yet he has yet to find someone. “Either they’re taken or not where I live or stupid.” I guess there’s some repose in the fact that even beautiful people can’t find love. I mean, what is this obsession with finding the right person to be with for the rest of your life?
I guess it’s the quest to find someone that can completely understand you and that will always be there for you. I think that’s what love is to most people. It’s not the sex, the money or the status. In the end, when it comes down to it, it really is about finding that perfect someone who loves your annoying habits. Who loves the little things, like the way you fiddle with your fingers when your talking, or the way you forget that you put your glasses on top of your head, or the way that you have to eat three bites of your salad before you can drink the soup. I mean, it’s this kind of acceptance that people crave for. You family, that’s unconditional, that’s an obligation. But to find that stranger who just adores all those things is, well, downright rare.
I think that’s what makes love so devastatingly wonderful. It should blindside you, it should knock you off your feet. There has to be some truths to those movies. I mean, sure it’s exaggerated, but there is some basis. Sure, we all want that fantasy love story to happen—but in the meanwhile, then what? What do we wait for?
Premeditated by human nature, we as people are just impatient fools hoping for our big break. And in the rush of things, we want to reach that blissful climax of love at the end. Whether we sleep through cities of people, bring up walls that block people out, or isolate oneself in their work, our goals are still the same: to love and be loved.
Oddly enough, as I spew this bullcrap, of course I want it to happen to me now. I can say all this and know it’s true; I still can’t wait for love to happen to me. As a twenty-two, almost twenty-three, virgin (yeah, that’s right) I guess my biggest fear is turning out like the forty-year old virgin. And oddly, I don’t want to do give it up for just anyone. I’m more surprised that I’m still hanging on to that romantic mentality of “giving your flower to the one.” But I’m sure you’ll hear it when it happens. I have BMS, remember? Big mouth syndrome.
Till another day.
Comments (1)
I love you. :)
I'll be home in October! I will shower you with food, alcohol and yumi-love. :)