That was me once… what you see in tv shows and movies.
That undeniable attraction, that oh we’re alone lets make out and touch because we’re teenagers and in love.
That was before I was even interested in girls and yet that was me. When girls came around… well only two have and with one I was ashamed to be with like that to begin with and generally just faking it and disgusted with myself when I was around her. and the other…
I can only assume she was ashamed of me…. She certainly never wanted me like that though.
But I had that! And with boys I wouldn’t even consider touching now!
You know the other day I saw a picture of a hickey and I couldn’t figure out what it was.
I haven’t had good *** since I was 14. Maybe once when I was 17.
You wonder why I am still so obsessed with Cadio? Not because he was my first but because he was my best. Yes, he was an absolute **** head and young and rude but… somehow he was still the best relations and relationship I’ve had.
and what the **** is that
he is the reason I still occasionally doubt if I even am gay- or, not him so much as that I haven’t Had a good girl…ever actually.
What if this is part of growing up? Do people no longer want each other like that now that we’re “mature"
because **** that. I have had that TV romance and if I can only be a teenager to experience love and lust like that then send me to Neverland.
I just want something passionate. I am so desperate to feel wanted it is pathetic.
maybe that’s why I am uncomfortable in public with her? because it doesn’t feel right. because that spark isn’t there.
There is nothing to push me out of my comfort zone, no driving force to give me the courage to think “**** other people. I love you and want to kiss you"
Some times I think she just wants me to kiss her in public because it is in public… not because she wants to kiss me
Is nothing in my life about love anymore?
Why do I only see love as this carnal passion. She wants me to be content with how she loves me…this estranged lukewarm bottomless stew of mild contentment and comfort.
I have sunk to the bottom of the ***. I need…tension… ****** tension on the line to pull me up from the dregs of my own self pity.
Thats why I am so excited for pride parade and for college.
They are glimmers of hope, hope that I may find someone I feel that kind of tension with.
It is not that I don’t love her. I do.
But it is all but the love best friends share now a days. I do not pine for her while she is away.
I do not daydream of her loving me, it is a faceless stranger that finds its way into my fantasies. I no longer long for her caress obsessing the way I once did. Even now my eyes no longer fill with tears at a two year long rejection. At the thought of how she only showed she wanted me twice in that time.
Yet watching Skins, watching the L Word, really any show designed for the satisfaction of young adult lust, is what brings me to tears.
I am afraid I wont experience that again. That perhaps I never will.
Leading me to the unending question that haunts my conscious and subconscious mind… Am I really so undesirable?