the rules.

Uncontrollable Laughter

Sun, 05 May 2013 17:27:48 -0400

Chris and I haven’t seen each other for a few weeks because our schedules have both been really erratic and intense. We have been texting, but texting with him is very laid-back. I don’t feel anxious if we haven’t texted for a few days. I think I’m in a state of mind where I’m both comfortable with the possibility of becoming more serious while also open to seeing other people if I met someone. This isn’t to say that I’m sleeping around or going on a lot of dates and juggling multiple guys. Rather, I’m simply open to the possibility.

However, the other day, I got the feeling that Chris was perhaps ashamed of me. We had made plans to see a movie and he cancelled because it was poor timing and his friends had invited him out to something. Maybe I was in a bad mood prior to this, but I definitely felt like he could have invited me (since we did make plans and all) but that he didn’t want his friends to see me. This sounds absurd, I know, and it’s more reasonable that he cancelled with me because my schedule would have made us meeting too inconvenient for myself. We texted a little, but my sour mood made me curt and uninterested in talking to him.

This bad mood quickly lifted, however, when I realized what was happening. I was being brief and distant in talking with him, and as a result, he was putting in more effort to talk to me. I was unintentionally following The Rules and it was, unfortunately, working perfectly. Then today he messages me “MAKE ROOM IN YOUR BUSY SCHEDULE TO HANG OUT WITH ME!!!” which, knowing how Chris tends to be more reserved in his texting style, reeked of desperation. I burst out laughing, but remained fairly distant.

In turn, he invited me to a movie, a swapmeet, a banquet, and an after party with his friends.

Cue the uncontrollable laughter.

Chris and I had what The Rules would probably consider to be the worst discussion you can possibly...

Sat, 27 Apr 2013 15:18:53 -0400

Chris and I had what The Rules would probably consider to be the worst discussion you can possibly have. We asked each other what we like and dislike about one another. The dislikes are the only important part of the conversation.

I told him I dislike that he sets up barriers for himself and makes arbitrary rules to follow that only serve to hold him back.

He said that he dislikes that I don’t have a more active lifestyle, i.e., that I’m not fit. He proceeded to say that my personality is amazing and that I shouldn’t change myself for anyone, but that (I forgot how he put it so I’m rearticulating it) I have so much potential, physically, and it feels like I’m wasting it or haven’t realized it.

Before you start to hate him, he didn’t phrase it as roughly as I did. We were both being brutally honest and he even said that it was pretty vain of him to say. It was good that he brought it up, because I got to talk to him about my body issues.

When I first started The Rules, I believed that I could force some silly nonsense into my head and magically, I’d love myself. I’d exercise and dress well because a book told me to and, in turn, those ideas got drilled into my brain. I thought I’d undergo some magical transformation and become beautiful and thin and perfect.

But that didn’t happen.

Because self-acceptance transcends words in a book. It’s a journey, not a destination. You first have to undo all of the self-hate you created for yourself. Then you have to accept yourself in your entirety, flaws and all. Then you begin the path towards loving yourself. And, once you love yourself, you don’t want to treat yourself poorly. You want the best for your body and you treat it like a friend. You exercise, quit smoking, eat healthier, drink more water, etc. because you love your body and want it to be the best it can be. But that’s a really long journey.

Chris has caught me in between accepting myself and starting the path towards loving myself, which is really kind of a perfect time. On one hand, I need to be alone and learn to accept myself but, on the other, I also need external support for when I fall down. I’m not saying Chris will be this support, but it’s much better than meeting me in any other part of the journey. I’m in a transformative phase and the potential for growth is exponential, but foundations must be laid now while I’m still that ugly duckling to know that people chose to be my friends for more than just my looks.

It’s like this: An unknown musician has a best friend. The musician works hard and the best friend says, you can do it, you’ve got it in you. The musician, eventually, becomes wildly famous. He turns to his best friend and knows that their relationship is genuine and lasting because it was created before status, when both were simply human beings.

So, as you all know, I’ve been going against The Rules lately. This doesn’t mean doing...

Sat, 27 Apr 2013 15:00:36 -0400

So, as you all know, I’ve been going against The Rules lately. This doesn’t mean doing the opposite of every rule, but just doing what I feel comfortable with and not relying on what The Rules say.

I met a guy (Chris) who, at first, I didn’t really expect anything from. When we first met, he wasn’t even on my radar. But after talking one-on-one, I was amazed to see what I had found. We began talking more regularly and, as I posted before, we kissed.

After that, we talked about what it meant and our intentions. This strongly goes against The Rules which state that you’re never supposed to ask a guy “what are we?” or other definitive questions. But I wanted to ask, because we work together, and I wanted to know if this was something worth getting out to others or if it was just a casual thing not worth mentioning. We figured out that we’re both just comfortable seeing where things take us.

We hooked up a few times. The first time was full of laughter and personality (which I thought was crazy awesome). Usually, people view sex as an act. You get into that bedroom and suddenly you’re just your body, not your personality. Then, after you’ve put your clothes back on, you can also turn your personality back on. I hated that. But with Chris, it was very much personality-driven, and that makes it even better. Now we’re in between friends with benefits and casually dating. The lines are blurred, but it’s comfortable. The focus isn’t on the physical. We honestly enjoy each other’s company and get along like really great friends. He’s hilarious and smart and compassionate. Our conversations are equal. We laugh a lot. Even if things don’t progress towards a relationship, I know (and this is going to sound naive) that we can still be friends. And that’s pretty nice.

I wrote a few posts and set them to queue so I wouldn’t overwhelm the dashboard but tumblr...

Sat, 27 Apr 2013 14:48:33 -0400

I wrote a few posts and set them to queue so I wouldn’t overwhelm the dashboard but tumblr doesn’t like me so obviously they’re not in my queue anymore. Just wonderful.

I’ll try to summarize what’s been going on to the best of my memory, but if I leave stuff out or things don’t make sense, I’m sorry.

A boy is spending the night tonight. This reminds me that I have a lot to tell you...

Sat, 06 Apr 2013 17:33:18 -0400

A boy is spending the night tonight.

This reminds me that I have a lot to tell you guys.

I’ll break it up into separate posts because lord knows I’m not much for brevity.

Sex.

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 20:04:04 -0400

I lost my virginity when I was 18. I hadn’t planned to wait until a special moment or anything. I just didn’t want to have sex in high school because I never really had the desire and so many girls who did were obnoxious about it. Oh, you’re sixteen and you’ve had another person’s anatomy inside you so you’re automatically this great knower of all things? Oh wait, you still can’t vote or drink or do anything that adults can do. Settle down, kid. Those girls who flaunted everything they had in high school all calmed down and realized how ridiculous they had been.

My first time wasn’t really meaningful. I mean to say that, often, people say that losing your virginity is this big huge important thing that you can’t take back and that ties you to another person forever and you have to be really careful about your emotions otherwise you’ll fall into a pit of despair and you’ll never learn to trust a man ever again. I thought that was ridiculous. Why does a boy get to celebrate losing his virginity with high fives and applause and a girl is expected to be this needy, creepy thing with severe attachment issues and possibility of mental breakdown after she first has sex? It’s really not that importanat to me. Granted, I’d be entering a new chapter of my life, but I never saw it as this terrifying monsterous thing that so many make it out to be. I waited because it wasn’t a big defining thing for me. I didn’t need to have sex to feel like a part of something, so I didn’t have sex.

The first person I ever had sex with was someone I had known for years. We had gone to school together and had a very comfortable friendship, kind of like old couples who have been married for a long time. There wasn’t a lot of passion, but we trusted each other and cared for one another. I didn’t give anyone my virginity. I doubt he even knows that was my first time, to be honest.

It all came about over the summer. I had just moved into an apartment with a roommate for my first year of college. My guy friend was going to school a few hours away. One day, we decided that he should come visit for a few days because we hadn’t seen each other in awhile. We hung out with my friends and had a great time. That night, we curled up on my tiny bed in my bedroom and somehow began kissing. Things heated up. And then it happened. And it was alright. And then the next day, we did it on my bed when my roommate had left for work. And it was better. And that was that. We still talk and care about each other, but we just never had that really strong connection.

It’s strange, really. Girls spend so much time thinking about the circumstances they want to have when they lose their virginity. Rose petals, soft music, dim lighting, whispering “I love you” into someone’s ear for hours on end. Holding that person and loving them with all your heart. Giving a part of you to them that can never be undone. Choosing that one special person to change your life. That’s all lovely and everything, but I knew back in high school that high school flames usually die out and are absurd and pointless because all of your brain chemicals are screaming “true love! true love!” without you actually having any idea what love is like. I didn’t think finding a special someone was possible because I was too young and full of stupid brain chemicals to know what special actually was. And if you spend all your time waiting for that special someone, odds are, you’ll never truly find them. You’ll either end up waiting until you’re married and then have nothing to compare things with or you’ll just give up and give in, tired of missing out on what you now see is not that big of a deal. The only reasons you shouldn’t bother having sex in high school are because you’re stupid and you’ll probably regret letting your stupid chemicals get the better of you with sleeping with that really gross guy that you thought was the light of your life for five seconds or you risk getting knocked up because being a teenager automatically means being entirely unaware of the world around them and making very stupid mistakes almost constantly.

I don’t see why we have to make sex such an important thing for women. It doesn’t change your hair color or make you smarter or anything like that. You’re still you. The only difference is a small membrane in your crotch gets stretched out a bit.

Success with the Rules [submission]

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 18:03:00 -0400

Back in July, I was dumped for the third time, from the only real relationship I had ever had. And it was terrible. He was abusive emotionally and physically. I didn’t know where to turn. My aunt came over to my house to try and console me and she brought with her The Rules. I sat down that entire night with tears in my eyes and read the whole book from beginning to end, even taking notes. My aunt made me realize that had I been following The Rules this would have not made my relationship any less painful or the break up any easier because I wouldn’t have had the relationship in the first place, so I shouldn’t blame myself.

The next morning I joined match.com. I didn’t message anyone right away, but I waited for the messages to come to me. And as I would later find out in The Rules for Online Dating, that was exactly what I should of done.

One of the first messages that I got was from a guy in Minnesota named Matt. His picture was cute and he made a funny joke about something on my profile that caught my eye. I waited and then responded. We messaged back and fourth for about 3 weeks before he was coming down here to Alabama to look at apartments before moving here. He would be down here for one week and we would meet then.

My aunt and I added some “house rules” to the Rules. Such as, don’t sleep with a guy until you have been dating him for at least 2 months. And always be safe. We made safety rules about never drink more than one alcoholic beverage when on a date. And always make sure you get your drink yourself from your bartender. When you do get ready to have sex, make sure it is protected. Basic rules for safety and well being, that we both agreed to and added to our rules.

Matt came down to Minnesota and we hit it off right away on the first date. He asked me out again immediately to see me before he left to go back to Minnesota. There were 5 days inbetween dates and because he was going out of state, my aunt and I agreed to break the rules one time and let me go back out on another date with him the last day before he went home since my first date was on the first night he got there.

When he went back home our messages became more frequent, but I still kept an air of mystery about me. We messaged and began text messaging (after he asked for my number) for the next two weeks until he moved to Alabama.

He moved to Alabama in August and we began to see each other twice or three times a week when he figured out how to ask correctly. We would usually hang out at his apartment and watch really bad B-rated horror movies and eat junk food, but we continued to date other people online. We both agreed to keep our profiles up and go on dates and tell each other about our dates.

It was beginning to become very hard to take our hands off of each other, however. So to speed things up, I decided to make him get tested. And I told him when he showed me a negative result we could sleep together. And two months was almost up also.

At first he was shocked but then he was excited to do it because he knew he would ultimately get what he wanted. So we continued to hang out, and the next week an envelope came in the mail. And he said he had a surprise for me. They had mailed him his test results. Of course they were negative like I expected. So that night was our first time together.

Afterwards we made an agreement. We would continue to keep our dating profiles up and maintain “single” status until December because then it would be officially 6 months since both of us had been out of a relationship and we felt like we could both get into one.

So from September till December, Matt would call, we would go on dates, and sometimes we would just go over to his apartment and watch movies. Never more than 2 or 3 times a week. We became the best of friends and lovers, but we still remained open to other people.

Then in December for Christmas he got me a diamond promise ring and officially asked me out before leaving on a business trip. I drove him to the airport and kissed him goodbye. I felt like I was in a movie. It was one of the most romantic things that has ever happened to me.

Then January came around and we made our relationship facebook official so that everyone in Minnesota as well as Alabama knows about it.

Currently Matt and I are very much in love. I just spent the night at his apartment last night. I left this morning though, like a good Rules girl. And I hope that one day in the next two years he will pop the question.

IT BEGINS.

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 17:53:41 -0400

Yesterday, I texted Chris asking if he was available this weekend. He replied asking what I was doing that night. I told him I was going to meet some friends for drinks at around 11, said it was very casual, and asked if he’d like to join. He then asked if I’d like to come see a play he was going to earlier. There was enough time to do both and this was a play I had been wanting to see, so I said yes. It sounded like he had possibly invited a bunch of people to come, so I assumed it was casual and not to expect anything from it. Still, I did my makeup (even though I wore a tshirt and jeans) because I’d be driving from the play straight to the bar.

Thanks to a perfectly timed accident on the freeway, I ended up being about ten minutes late to the show. They wouldn’t allow late seating, so I had to wait until intermission. Had I not paid for a ticket, I might have gone home. But I had my notebook (in which I’m writing the first draft for the book), so I spent the next 45 minutes writing and editing. During intermission, we met up. He was alone. He hadn’t invited anyone else. I should have dressed less casually. I simultaneously hated myself for not looking nicer but delighted in the fact that I was the only person he’d invited. Or, more possibly, the only person he invited who was able to come.

After the play (it was amazing), we walked back to my car. I asked if he’d like to come to the bar and he said yes. We took my car and hit the road. Not wanting to bother with parking, I parked at my friend’s house a few blocks away from the bar. When we arrived, one of my friends immediately asked if I had brought “that guy” and said he was “cuuuuuute!” I blushed and nodded in agreement. Everyone had been there for about an hour, so they were all sufficiently tipsy. Chris and I bought drinks (he paid for them). I had an amazing time with my friends, while being mindful of the fact that Chris didn’t know anyone. I love decompartmentalizing my friends, but I hate the initial decompartmentalization attempt because the one friend meeting the group of people who all know each other tends to be closed off and uncomfortable. But my friends are all very comfortable people and Chris didn’t get a moment to feel left out or slighted.

After drinks, both Chris and myself were hungry but the rest of our friends weren’t. It was pretty late and they were all going home to sleep. Chris and I hadn’t eaten dinner before going out, so we decided to get some food. We walked back to the car and I asked if he really did feel like getting food (you know how sometimes in the moment, you’re down for anything, but once you get to your car, you realize how tired you are?). He replied, “I actually kinda feel like making out with you…but I don’t know how you feel about it.” I smiled and said I was fine with it. He’s a gentle kisser. Not shy or untrained, mind you. Just gentle. We were kissing for a few minutes and the intensity increased. He pushed me against my car and our kisses became more passionate. That was, of course, until he accidentally pushed against my car keys in my pocket and caused the panic button on my keys to go off. It was 2am and my car was going off like crazy. I rushed to get the keys out of my pocket and unlock the car so it’d stop. Once it did, I was doubled over with laughter. How perfectly terrible is this? It felt like a scene straight out of a movie about a girl who always manages to have something mess up a perfectly good time. It was amazing.

We got in the car and drove to get food (neither of us were buzzed, so don’t worry about drunk driving or anything like that). When the waitress walked us to our booth, Chris sat on one side and then slid all the way to the end. In those few seconds, I stood there awkwardly, unsure whether to sit opposite or beside him. Before he’d slid down, I began making my way to sit across from him with a very confused “is this what we’re doing? Please give me some cues” look on my face. But I paused mid-sit down when he moved over and he said “Oh, I thought you’d want to sit next to me, but fine okay whatever.” I laughed and sat next to him. We ate and talked and it was lovely.

When we finished, I paid for the meal ($15). He put a ten dollar bill in my pocket, which made me happy for some reason. Maybe I was a stripper in a past life. Or maybe I just liked knowing that he had no intentions of having me pay. We walked back to my car (I, with leftovers in my hand) and passed a homeless person sleeping. I decided to leave the leftovers with them instead of taking them home. I might be poor, but I’m not homeless.

We drove back to his car. I should mention that the whole of the car rides and walking places involved lots of friendly chatter and laughter. Awhile ago I had told him that when I first meet people, I’m very talkative and upbeat. But once I’ve gotten comfortable or settle a bit, I tend to be much quieter. On the drive back (it was now 3am), I had become very quiet. I apologized for not being SUPER UPBEAT and he said, “No, it’s fine. You said that once you get to know someone better, you get quieter.” I didn’t even remember saying this, but he did?? Color me baffled.

Arriving back at his car, he thanked me for inviting me to the bar and said he had a great time. I thanked him for inviting me to the play and that I also had fun. He leaned in for a kiss, and then we started making out some more. With my car still on. After a few minutes, he turned the car off - but didn’t turn the key all the way. We continued to make out, although this time with a lot less reserve (think second-and-a-half base), for about an hour. He said, “I know it’s really early to be saying this, but do you want to spend the night at my place tonight?”

Now, this is very important: I turned him down. Not because I was following The Rules, because I’m obviously not. But because it was very late and I’m interested in figuring out what’s going on between us. Is this the result of two lonely people who shared a kiss after having one drink but using that drink (even though its effects weren’t strong enough to excuse a kiss) as an excuse? Is this because we actually like each other? I know that, personality-wise, I do like him. But did I really want to go all the way on the same night we shared our first kiss? If this develops into something, I know how ashamed I’d be with constantly questioning if our relationship was based and survived on only the physical, which is not a stable foundation for any worthwhile thing.

We continued to make out, and it was lovely. At 4:30am, we finally decided it was time to part. We said our goodbyes and he got in his car. He waited until I was back in mine before leaving. Then, after putting on my seatbelt and plugging my phone into the charger, I tried turning on my car.

It was dead. I tried calling Chris to see if he could come back to give me a jump (how ironic), but his phone was dead as well. I waited a few minutes and tried again. And again. And again. Finally, I caved and called AAA for a jump. I waited until 5am. The AAA guy came, gave me a jump, and I was off. When I finally got home, I took my shoes off and crawled into bed. I hid my face in my pillow and fell asleep smiling.

Everything went better than expected. This is absolutely crazy to me. Just the other day, I was convinced that nothing would happen between us and I’d have to train myself to stop liking him. But, finally,the gods took pity on me and gave me exactly what I wanted.

Whether this develops into a relationship is currently unknown, but, like most silly girls, I have high hopes that it does.

It’s almost 5am and I’ve been stranded in a parking lot for about an hour. More details...

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 07:49:47 -0400

It’s almost 5am and I’ve been stranded in a parking lot for about an hour.

More details tomorrow.

Affection Erection

Fri, 15 Mar 2013 17:23:02 -0400

I had a sex dream last night! Unfortunately, as it goes with my “sex” dreams, no sex occurred. Let me explain.

I met a guy a few weeks ago who seems really great. The only problem is that he’s working on his Master’s degree and spends almost all of his free time studying or writing his paper. So, obviously, there’s little chance that he has the time or interest to make room in his life for another human being (me). When we do hang out, there’s definite chemistry, but the timing is fifty shades of bad. I feel like, if things were to progress, he’d end up talking to me to tell me that he just didn’t have time for a relationship (to which I would pout and think “Well, if you really liked me, you’d make time for me” but I’d never say that to him). We’d go our separate ways, me, pouting in a corner, and him, face embedded in a book.

This logic, of course, doesn’t change my body’s attraction. I once read somewhere that people need human contact - be it by handshakes, hugs, high-fives, or snuggles - every day. Without it, we begin to wilt like flowers deprived of sunlight. So, being that I’m so deprived of human contact, whenever my brain finds another brain worth connection with, my physical desires latch onto that person and every passing wish to hold someone’s hand or kiss someone turns into a desire to hold his hand and kiss him. Clearly, this will not end well.

Last night, I dreamt about him. We were hanging out and, I’m not sure how or why, there was a moment when we were looking at his penis (erect). Then that went away and it transitioned to just us hanging out again. Later, for whatever reason, we were looking at his penis (erect) again. It had grown an inch since we’d last looked at it. We attributed this to being caused by the fact that he’d grown to like me a lot more in the time we’d spent hanging out since last looking at his penis - so much so that his penis was bigger than it had ever been for anyone else. We didn’t do anything with it, in case you’re wondering. Because not even in my sex dreams do I have sex. It’s really a blast.

Anyway, I was thinking about it today because it’s such an absurd thing to dream about. I mean, I laugh thinking about it because when have I ever heard of that happening? Never. I realized, though, that his penis was a symbol. Of course. It always is, isn’t it? It symbolized my wish that, if we spent more time together, he’d develop feelings for me too strong to ignore. I had projected my hopes onto his penis. I want him to develop an affection erection for me bigger than he ever knew it could be and, in turn, actually decide to make time in his life for a relationship, regardless of the fact that he spends every waking moment occupied with much more important things.

I’ve never projected my hopes onto someone else’s penis before. This is pretty hilarious to me.

The convenience of not having posted for awhile and losing out on feedback is that it makes for...

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 08:50:17 -0400

The convenience of not having posted for awhile and losing out on feedback is that it makes for going through my archives to find every question and comment in order to address them in the book very easy.

I still feel, however, that there is a very large segment of this experiment lacking. That segment is you. I would like very much if everyone could please take a moment to tell me a story about your love life. Even if it’s a nostalgic memory of an old high school flame and the foolishness surrounding it; a general pattern or fault in your dating life as a whole; or a current love, I want to know how your mind operates or operated in a relationship (or one that failed to come to fruition) that sticks out most strongly in your mind.

My inbox and submissions page are both open. If you’d like to share with me but prefer that it not be posted on here, please say so. Any stories shared will automatically be liable to be used in the book, but names will be changed for the sake of anonymity. Please help me.

The Idea of You

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 05:26:36 -0400

I watched a movie the other night that had this scene where the main characters were kissing and their kisses were so intense that they seemed magnetized to one another. To contrast, when you see couples in real life kiss, one usually pulls away from the other (casually) or they’re gross with their makeout session. But these characters, rather than have one pull away before the other or just kiss lightly, separated at the same time, as though they were bouncing off of each other from the force of their passion.

When I saw it, this scene made me freeze. My entire body went numb. I felt a huge wave of sadness wash over me. It was a very new feeling. Usually when my mind is triggered into thinking about how alone I am, it’s a fleeting thought. More of a statement of fact than anything else. But this stuck, and it stuck hard.

As a result, I’ve found myself to be annoyingly flirtateous with guys. Granted, a small part of this is because I’ve recently met a handful of guys who were all lovely and attractive in their own rights. I met one guy today who was amazing, but when I pan out and look at him objectively, there’s nothing between us. His personality traits don’t mesh with mine. Hypothetically, if we were to date, it would be very strongly based in the ideas of one another. Sooner or later, we would see each other as we truly are and be shocked at what we saw. I operate in a form of organized chaos. He, organized and meticulous. If we were to live together, for example, my papers would be heaped in piles while his would be neatly organized and in files. It would end in tragedy and the taste of disappointment would rest on our tongues and minds for ages. Our sighs would be heavy, wishing the other were different.

See, this is my issue. This guy is wonderful. But we don’t fit together. Yet because he’s lovely and I’m so longing for love, I could easily fool myself into believing that what is imaginary is reality.

I’m worried now that since the floodgates have opened, I’m ever-more susceptible to falling for the entirely wrong guy and shaping myself into his expectation of me. I don’t want to love the idea of someone. It would only end up in pain. But because I’m so vulnerable, the possibility is even higher than it ever was. I’ve been so without, my mind has become this dichotomy between the adult who knows what is right and the teenager who ignores it anyway. I don’t want to go down that road and, I know, it’s a blessing that I can see these things before they’ve happened, but that’s only when I’m alone with my thoughts. Once thrust back into society, I’ll lose all sensibility and become an animalistic version of who I once was, holding on to dreams and wishes like wisps of smoke that I refuse to believe are not tangible.

I went out to a bar to hang out with some friends...

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 05:19:23 -0500

I went out to a bar to hang out with some friends tonight.

Before my friends arrived, I stood outside. A handful of people who had been in the bar were standing outside, smoking and talking to one another. They were very loud and very social with each other, so I assumed they were friends. Instead of jumping into their conversation to pass the time in that awkward way that some people do, I chose instead to talk to the doorman. He was quiet, nice, and looked like LL Cool J. We shared a few laughs watching one guy park and take up two spots and chuckled quietly about a guy who had a wallet with snaps - the close sibling of a wallet with velcro.

When my friends arrived, we went inside and had a few drinks and caught up a bit. A woman walked around trying to sell long stemmed yellow roses at each booth. We kindly turned her down. After an hour or so, we decided to call it a night.

We walked out and I said my goodbyes to my friends before going back inside to use the bathroom. When I walked out again, the doorman and I chatted for a few more minutes before I decided it was time to go home. The woman who had been selling the roses had given him one, because, he said, she always did that when he was working. He gave it to me.

It made me happy for a few reasons. Firstly, I was dressed very casually. No makeup, hair in a ponytail, a comfortable jacket with jeans and sneakers. Secondly, he hadn’t hit on me or been anything more or less than friendly. It warmed my heart because I knew he gave it to me not in an attempt to get my number or anything low, but because I had been kind and friendly to him. He gave me a rose because my personality, he felt, merited such a beautiful gift. I thanked him and went home smiling.

Such a lovely and unexpected confidence boost and reinforcement of the idea that there are people out there who really do see people for more than their looks.

Technology update

Fri, 08 Mar 2013 01:49:34 -0500

I’ve been talking with tumblr recently because it’s clear that for the past several months, my inability to heart and comment posts applies solely to this blog, regardless of if used via desktop or mobile and browser. I even tested this issue by temporarily creating another account using a different email address and was able to heart posts perfectly fine. The cause of this issue still unknown, but please know that I am reading your posts and I am actively trying to communicate with all of you. I am not simply following you and not interacting. I’m very anxious to have this problem remedied and hope that tumblr will soon provide some useful assistance.

Until then, my inbox is always open, for any need or desire.

Love,
Emily

10 Signs That They Are Selfish

Fri, 08 Mar 2013 01:43:00 -0500

psych-quotes:

Is your relationship all about them? Does everything revolve around them and their needs, or is it an equal partnership? Here are 10 signs that your boyfriend/girlfriend is selfish:

1. You never hang out with your friends. Are you always spending time with their friends or their family but never yours? If so, you need to wonder why they seem to think that their friends are more important than yours.

2. Your dates are always around their schedule. If everything needs to take place when it works for them and they never consider what your schedule is, then you might wonder if they think that their life takes priority over yours.

3. You’ve met their parents but they haven’t met yours. If you’re having Sunday dinners at their house every week and going to their Grandma’s birthday party but they haven’t even met your folks it could be a sign that they just don’t think that your family is that important.

4. They don’t ask questions about you. You know all about what’s going on in their life, what they’re doing at work, what their summer plans are and what book they’re currently reading. But if they never even ask about you, what you’re up to or what you’re thinking, chances are they don’t care as much about you as they do about themselves.

5. It’s all take and no give. Do you give, give, give but never receive? If you’re always doing things for them, treating them and surprising them with thoughtful gestures and you never receive any in return then it sounds like they want to reap all the rewards of your relationship without expecting to make any effort in return.

6. They act without considering others. When making decisions do they think about how other people will be affected? Do they act without considering others and their feelings? If yes, they are truly only thinking of themselves.

7. They make everything about themselves. Does every conversation wind up revolving around them? Do they turn every story into something about them? Chances are they aren’t even listening to you talk before trying to get the conversation back to themselves.

8. Nothing is their fault. Do they accept blame or is it always someone else’s fault? Selfish people think that they are never in the wrong and are constantly assigning blame to anyone other than themselves.

9. They are the expert on everything. They seem to know everything about every subject and are the authority on everything including you and what you feel, think and what’s best for you. If they don’t even bother to ask your opinion because they assume they already know then you have a selfish partner on your hands.

10. They can’t compromise. Does every argument or decision end with you giving in to what they want? That’s because selfish people aren’t interested in compromising. It’s their way or the highway.

I never reblog things, but this is something I strongly believe everyone should see.

While this is aimed solely at figuring out whether your partner is selfish, apply the questions to yourself. Sometimes, we aren’t the hero. Sometimes, we’re the ones at fault. And that’s an important thing to notice and remedy.

Even if you read this and only see one or a few points in your relationship, work on improving those. Do this not only for the sake of your relationship, but for the continuing development and refinement of your emotional intelligence.

Your relationship may not last forever, but what you’ve learned from it will be invaluable information for years to come.

Hello, friends.

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 00:08:19 -0500

We’re nearing the one year mark since this journey and experiment began, and to celebrate, I made a very difficult decision.

My initial plan was to blog about my experiences regarding The Rules for a year and then to write a screenplay using my story. However, it has become clear that one year is far too short to thoroughly develop anything substantial, especially with matters of the heart.

So I have chosen to continue this blog as I begin embarking on a new adventure.

Instead of writing a screenplay (as per my first plan), I have begun the early stages of turning what I’ve experienced thus far into a book. Once the book is completed, I will then work to create a screenplay derived from the book and fictionalized to fit into a film.

See, a book affords you the luxury of length and complexity. A movie, regardless of the matter, must be a truncated version of its book counterpart. While I have been keeping you all up to date on the physical events in my romantic life, I have spent a majority of my time thinking and observing. Thinking of how my individual experiences translate to look at the world we live in. Expanding my situation so that it serves as a commentary on our society as a whole. This has very much become a sociological observation and analysis greater than just matters of the heart. However, it’s also a personal journey. Because any observation requires also taking into account the observer’s relationship with what is being observed. Along with highlighting general ideas, I am also writing about my personal story.

My end goal is to have written a book that is both informative and entertaining. It combines psychology, sociology, and literature. So far, I’ve written the foreword and the beginning of the first chapter. We’re in the very early stages. Both will probably change quite a bit.

So what’s that mean for the blog?

I will be remaining silent on what I write for the book, because I am very guarded about my writing. Yes, I need critics, but I prefer having those be people with expertise in the field who have no interest in potentially lifting my ideas. Although the likelihood of you, my lovely readers, doing that is slim, the chances of a stranger happening on this blog and taking my first chapter or portions of the book that I share and turning it into something of their own is very high. For this reason, the book-specific works will remain undisclosed. However, as this story has to do with my real life, if events occur, I will share them with you as I’ve always done. There is no set ending for the book (as I’ve not yet experienced that ending, though I’ve toyed around with a few potential endings), and it will continue to grow and change as I grow and change.

This will be a very long process, as life always is, but the wait will be worth it.

Were You Expecting a Valentine's Day Post?

Fri, 22 Feb 2013 04:19:00 -0500

I intentionally chose to stay away from this blog around Valentine’s Day for two reasons.

I didn’t want to risk feeding into the expected actions of crying and eating ice cream while watching my favorite romance movie alone by addressing my mindset on Valentine’s Day
I didn’t want to influence others into feeling low on an already difficult day.

I figured that if I ignored the fact that I run a relationships blog on the day dedicated to relationships, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I’ve accomplished nothing within my dating life. Each Valentine’s Day since before I hit puberty has been spent sighing and dreaming of suddenly finding The One and knowing as soon as I saw him that he was The One. I was a dreamer as a kid, and the idea of Valentine’s Day struck a chord even then when I didn’t quite grasp the concept of loving someone outside of your family and thought all boys were gross. I still dreamed, even if it was of Peter Pan taking me away to Neverneverland.

But old habits die hard. As I climbed the steps to my door after a long, busy day, I became suddenly aware of how alone I was. I was taking the slow, heavy steps alone towards a door that, when opened, wouldn’t reveal a surprise candlelight dinner or roses or even someone to come home to. I had spent the entire day absolutely content with being alone and didn’t feel even the shadow of sadness. But in those small seconds between my car and my home, I felt like I had been encased in plastic wrap. Individually packaged. Separate from everything else. Unable to feel the warmth of another person directly upon my skin. I went inside, put my things down, and shook off the feeling. I had plans to spend time with some friends - and not in the cliche “anti-Valentine’s Day Valentine’s Day celebration” sort of way. Just a few friends and myself enjoying each other’s company on a well-known day in which we all happened to be available. We laughed and talked and enjoyed the time, and that plastic wrap feeling seemed to stay away for the rest of the day and night.

The next day, however, it hit me even harder. Another Valentine’s has passed, I’d think, without knowing the romantic love it’s supposed to be celebrating. I spent February 15th stewing in my thoughts.

What is wrong with me that I’ve been without for so long?

What do I have to change about myself just to have that basic human right?

How many more Valentine’s will I endure alone?

These were the thoughts I had managed to avoid the day before. These were the thoughts I feared would pop into the minds of my readers and would leave them upset or depressed. But finally, I chose to address them.

What is wrong with me?
Nothing. “Normal” is, most simply put, something that 60% or more of the population does and is therefore recognized as common. If 60% of the population wore weird hats or had blue hair, it would be considered normal. If 60% of the population suffers from the same mental illness, suffering from that mental illness would be considered normal. So how is there really an appropriate gauge for what is normal and, more importantly, how do we figure out our faults? Sure, there are some things that everyone has that aren’t beneficial for growth. But does having one negative mean that all of your positives are moot? Does the fact that whatever your “problem” is - be it clinginess, fear of rejection, failure, commitment, or trust issues - is something specific to you and your life mean that you’re damaged goods?

Literally no one is perfect. Perfect is an imaginary idea that we, as a society, have created to push us forward and weed out the weak from the strong. But no one meets every aspect of perfection. Does that mean we are all broken? And, if we are, how can there be anything wrong with us that merits tearing ourselves down so far that we can’t tell which way is up? If we are all defected in some form or another, that doesn’t make you incapable of being loved. That just means that the person who will fit you is going to be tolerant of that specific aspect of your personality that isn’t as strong as the rest. If you have a fear of commitment, you’ll probably find someone who is fine with taking time. If you have trust issues, you’ll find someone who will always value what trust you put into them. Granted, some people have very exaggerated cases of such problems and those things need to be dealt with on your own or with a professional (never try fixing someone or expect someone else to fix you), but for those of us with mild issues of whatever topic, you’ll find someone who is okay with those things. You haven’t found them yet because a lot of people haven’t found themselves yet. But eventually, they’ll be there.

What do I have to change about myself?
Again, nothing. Don’t cut away parts of you. You aren’t a piece of meat. Cutting off your hands and legs and ears doesn’t render a perfect piece of torso. Rather, you’re left with a fragment of who you once were. Instead, work to become a better version of yourself - of who you already are. This isn’t something just for single people, either. This goes for anyone, regardless of age. It’s an ongoing process and should never be ignored or misinterpreted. Be you, but be the best you that you can be.

How many Valentine’s will I have to endure alone?
The more you pay attention to counting them, the more of them there will be.

Love yourself and it won’t matter if and when someone else finds you. Valentine’s Day isn’t a day to be sad that you’re not living the life depicted in jewelry commercials. Rather, it should be a day to remind yourself that you deserve love, and that love starts with you. In fact, every day should be lived like this. Not just one day a year, but every day. Every moment of every day. Don’t bother with wanting to find someone who will love you. You’ve already got yourself, so how about you work on making that person fall in love with the wonderfully normal yet unique person that you are.

When I was in middle school, I had a friend named Krystal. Krystal and I became very good...

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 18:41:00 -0500

When I was in middle school, I had a friend named Krystal. Krystal and I became very good friends and we spent a lot of time together. Throughout the course of our friendship, Krystal and I would get into arguments. Everyone else wore “brand name” clothes like Roxy or Billabong, but I never saw the value in it. Krystal would tell me that I should buy Converses or a different style of pants or to do my hair certain ways. I was resistant simply based in the idea that looking cute for school in middle school was absolutely pointless. I’d soon outgrow that $35 Roxy t-shirt or American Eagle jeans, so why would I want to spend three times as much for them when I could buy things that were worth their cost? I remember one time, I tied my jacket around my waist and Krystal urged me to tie it lower, around my hips, which did not exist because we were in middle school. It felt like my jacket would fall off at any second because there was nothing holding it there. I felt sad because I wanted to be well liked, but there was nothing comfortable or logical about the ways in which Krystal insisted I should go about it.

After awhile, our relationship became predicated in Krystal telling me how to dress or act and me getting frustrated that she was constantly trying to change me because she wanted to look cool and I was holding her back. Needless to say, the relationship ended relatively easily.

Even though it was frustrating to feel like I didn’t fit in, I refused to change for others. I eventually transitioned into lower riding pants from American Eagle because I was short and they were the only ones I didn’t have to bring to my grandma’s house to have her hem for me. As I went through puberty and lost a lot of baby fat, I felt comfortable in cuter clothes. I eventually bought a pair of Converses - when I was 17 - because I liked how well they looked with any casual outfit. I started straightening my hair when I was 15 after visiting my cousin and coming into contact with a hair straightener for the first time. My hair was always wavy, and it was a blessing to have smooth hair that I didn’t feel urged into putting in a ponytail every day. Never did I make these changes because other people told me I should. Some things I eventually came around to, but not because I had a friend whispering suggestions in my ear as I shopped.

All too often, relationships force people into making adjustments. They feel pressured into making time for their significant other, which requires letting go of friends or hobbies that once filled their free time. They want to lose weight or start wearing makeup or take up a new hobby so their partner will feel more invested in staying with them. What people fail to realize, however, is that your partner liked you regardless of how you dressed or did your makeup or how much you weighed when you first started dating.

Ignoring this fact leads to a lot of problems. If you’re with someone who dislikes it when you wear nice clothes or do your makeup because it makes you more attractive to other people and increases the (slim) chances that someone else will try taking you from them, they will tell you to not wear makeup or to eat another slice of pizza or why is that shirt so low cut? or a million other things. You fill in the blanks.

For people who listened to their Krystals in middle school, they are natural-born followers. They will do anything to be well-liked. Krystal, herself, was one of these people. Countless hours are spent worrying about your weight, feeling pressure to keep your wardrobe as fashionable as possible, and following whatever styles your friends follow. The tendency to adhere to groupthink has so many signs and dangers for people like me. Groupthinkers will join clubs or fraternities and will lose themselves entirely within them. If you lived with your parents and decided to move out into a frat (or, since most of my readers are women, a sorority) house, nothing has changed. You’re still being told how to act, dress, when to be home, and being told what to eat. The only difference is that this time, you think it’s healthy for you. You listen to what your sorority sisters have to say about a pair of jeans or a friend of yours because you believe they know best. You’re searching for guidance and getting it from the worst place in the planet. You want to become an individual, yet you’re giving in to obeying what people tell you to do.

Natural followers and I do not get along. I have a friend who is a natural follower. She will follow whatever voice sounds the most reasonable and, unfortunately for her, that voice is her boyfriend’s. Because she follows, and loves him, she blindly listens to everything he has to say. If he tells her her hair is too long, she’ll magically one day decide that she should get a haircut. If he tells her a friend that she’s known for years is bad for her, she distances herself from them for no logical reason.

Those of you who have followed this blog long enough surely can tell that I’m fairly logic-minded. I understand how the world works and re-articulate that to help others see it too. I have never manipulated someone into believing me for my own benefit or because they were friends with someone I didn’t like. I have never told a boyfriend to stop hanging out with his friends because I felt threatened by them. My friend’s boyfriend, however, does this. I knew from the beginning that their relationship was unhealthy and doomed to fail. Did I mention this? Of course not. Because I’m a firm believer in to each his own. You do what makes you happy and, when it stops making you happy, you’ll come to me and cry about how disappointed you are in yourself. I’ll gently stop your tears and support you, keeping to myself that I knew all along it wouldn’t work out. Just because a relationship (regardless of whether it’s platonic or romantic) crashed to the ground in a fiery death doesn’t mean you didn’t have some wonderful times when things were good, so why would I try taking those good times away from you by telling you I knew all along that it wouldn’t work out?

So the obvious question now is: how do I manage to stay friends with someone who makes all of these bad decisions? Well, it’s simple. The harder someone goes into something that I know won’t work out, the quieter I become. I give you all the space in the universe to have your fun because you deserve to have those good times unmarred by an unsettling feeling of disapproval (I haven’t mastered the skill of feigning pure support for something I know is wrong and even if I don’t say anything, I can still sometimes give off the impression that I disapprove). I keep my distance because you’ve got enough to worry about within your relationship and professional life. When you need advice, I do my best to not mince words or suggest that I ultimately feel that the solution to your problems is to break up with your boyfriend. Everything I say is right, but put me in a room with my friend and her boyfriend and I get uncomfortable, and that discomfort settles into the atmosphere.

So I stay away, because I want you to enjoy the good before the bad inevitably comes.

Another friend was in a relationship that, as soon as I was with them together, I knew wouldn’t work out. I kept silent about it and whenever she asked for advice, I gave it to her without suggesting a breakup. Our friendship was healthy. She had a mind of her own, even though in the beginning, her world revolved around him. I kept my distance when it came to her relationship, but I was still very much her friend. She would share with me when they had disagreements and I would offer advice on how to keep the relationship going. It was only in the end, when she knew it wasn’t going to work out and needed that affirmation, did I mention breaking up. Instead of forcing her into it, I gave her equal hypotheticals for where her life would lead if they stayed together or broke up. She came to the conclusion on her own. Now, sometimes she tells me about how frustrated she gets remembering things about the relationship that should have been warning signs and I gently remind her that she didn’t waste her time and that every human interaction is an opportunity for growth. I don’t tell her “Yeah, I noticed that and I knew it was going to end but I didn’t want to say anything.” I don’t tell anyone that, because it taints the good memories, makes it harder to let go, and enables the opportunity to create a past full of hatred and frustration. No one deserves that.

With my other friend, we aren’t speaking right now.

She gave into her Krystals (one of whom is her immature and ill-fitting boyfriend). She felt pressured into not inviting me to things because she worried that I would embarrass her or I wouldn’t be cool enough (a judgment based on her fear of being left out combined with my comfort with who I am). She failed to realize that people are either attracted to me like moths to a flame because I’ve found myself and it’s refreshing to have a friend who is capable of making their own choices, or they’re intimidated by me because I am so capable of ignoring societal pressures and find the attempt to look cool to be as useful as tying a jacket around your hips before you’ve reached puberty. The people who are intimidated pass judgment and assume that I’m not good or right because I don’t need their (amateur and pointless) ideas of social norms to feel comfortable with myself. The people who are attracted to me are various forms of upwardly mobile entrepreneurs with aspirations and goals and, sometimes, people who have already become successful. The people who dislike me are the ones who will remain followers forever, and the people who love me are the ones who will (or already have) set the standards in fashion, art, writing, and music that the followers follow.

Tying this back in with my friend: she follows what her boyfriend says. Not because he’s one of those people who sets the standard for others, but because he’s so scared and unsure of himself that he makes his voice the loudest in the room so people mistake it for confidence and knowledge. I know, based on the experiences I’ve had, that I’ll never be one of those girls that blindly listens to whatever her boyfriend says is right. Just like how I know that their relationship won’t work out and, when that happens, my friend will re-enter my life with the world’s biggest apology.

When you stop following someone, you’re forced to look at the world through your own eyes. And when you do that, you realize all the wrongs you need to right. But if you never follow in the first place, you never have to apologize for losing sight of what’s real.

The last thing I told her? You need to find your own voice. Some things can’t work out no matter how hard you try. Some things work perfectly when you stop trying to fit them into a box they’re not meant to be in. You need to figure out what those things are and just be. I’m here if you need a friend who understands you and can help you. That’s all I’ve ever been.

Will we ever talk again?

Who knows.

Does that question have any meaning for me?

Not really. Since I’ve found plenty of friends who are comfortable and know themselves, I’ve learned that I don’t have time to teach followers how to lead.

Don't Apologize

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 01:33:50 -0500

When I was in school, I used to blush really hard whenever I raised my hand and the teacher called on me. My face would fill with blood. My ears would burn and my heart would beat so fast, it felt like the world was spinning. In middle school, we had to choose between playing an instrument or performing in chorus. Only the bravest joined chorus, so naturally, I picked an instrument. Our teacher would go one at a time to help us tune and every time it was my turn, my hands would sweat and my face would turn deep red. I was overcome with anxiety and my hands would shake afterwards. This continued throughout school.

My first year in college was no different. The second year, about the same. I became involved in extracurriculars which required me to find the will to speak over someone to give my input or to provide nothing useful in meetings. It was, in a way, natural selection. Going into meetings with people who naturally feel like their opinion is fact and having to fight to speak even a single sentence forced me to become more comfortable with speaking up. As time passed, I slowly found my voice. I was always outgoing and extroverted with friends or family, but it took me more than twenty years to be able to replicate that in class or professional environments.

I was talking with someone the other day when I suddenly realized that when I spoke up, my heart didn’t race and my face didn’t turn red. You never seem to notice the absence of something, yet you’ll always notice a new addition. My anxiety slipped away gradually to the point where I don’t remember the last time I felt those kinds of nerves. Part of this is because I came into my own. I’m not entirely there yet, of course, but I know who I am. I know what parts of me intrigue and which annoy. I know what is malleable and what is fixed. I see these things as the whole of me.

The only issue is that parts of me are very abrasive. Not rude or unkind, mind you. I’m just very friendly. I’m always open to new friendships and get comfortable quickly. This is most likely due to the fact that I moved around a lot when I was younger and had to get to know people quickly otherwise risk being the loner new kid everywhere I went. This, I believe, is both a positive and a negative of my personality. On one hand, those who can handle my intensity will stay for a long time. But on the other, a lot of people need to be gently coaxed into a friendship. They must be wooed. I’ve found, however, that a lot of these people tend to be fairweather friends or people you have to constantly censor yourself around for fear of insulting or offending them. I’m not like that. Being my friend is like falling down a waterfall and being pounded by the force of the water at the base, only to be helped into calm waters shortly thereafter. In a sense, my abrasiveness acts as a guard. People either sink or swim, and I learn who is worth making time for.

I could try to change myself - and believe me, many people have suggested it. I could force myself to be quiet or subdued or restrained, but it hurts. I’m filled with self-hatred for not being able to naturally fit inside a box that would accrue the most friends. I hate that I push people away because so many are too weak to handle it. I hate that, at the end of the day, I’m left alone because shy men are intimidated and outgoing men feel like their authority is being undermined. I can’t stand men who can’t speak their minds or make a decision or just be solid in themselves, but I doubly can’t stand men who project enthusiasm and confidence as a form of defense. Neither of these men know themselves. And both are shaken by the powerful storm that is me.

I met someone who seemed to have an amazing personality. After texting for a few weeks, I decided to ask him to hang out (recall I’m not following The Rules). He gave me this roundabout answer, like he was too scared to say yes or no. I quickly became frustrated with this game he was playing. I collected myself and calmly asked as straightforward as I could be whether or not - yes or no - he would like to hang out with me in a platonic manner. His response? “Ok ok ok, but what is platonic?”

I just about threw my phone. If someone asks you a yes or no question, answer it with either yes or no. Anyway, I asked again and this time said if he didn’t, that was fine, but I want a straight answer because I’m tired of these games (by this point, he had managed to avoid the question (and several other topics) and gone off on some absurd tangent several times). He replied “I said okay.”

No, you didn’t. You said “ok ok ok,” as in, “I comprehend what you’re saying.” I was completely done with trying to play this game of beating around the bush. I don’t have time for childish antics. He told me to text him the next night to figure out what we would do Friday (tonight) because he’s always on-call for work and doesn’t know until the day before.

By this point, I had ignored red flag after red flag. But did I care? No. I wanted a yes or no, because that was something he was clearly too scared to provide, and I enjoy a challenge. I texted him last night and, surprisingly enough, he never replied. Not yesterday. Not today.

Why?

I scared him off. I know his personality. He has the air of confidence to mask deep insecurities. And when met with strength, he crumples and hides. He couldn’t say it to my face, even though I explicitly told him to, and instead he chose to ignore me.

I used to do that. I used to hide from life, making excuses for why I couldn’t do something or be somewhere. But I stopped because it was causing me to miss out on so many amazing things and was entirely pointless. I became stronger than my fear. I forced it into submission. My closest friend now is someone who can go toe-to-toe with me. Nothing is too scary to say. There’s no fear of being too bold or brazen between us. We are both strong and, when we fall, we help each other get back up. She is confident in herself, and I am in myself. We both want to change and become better, but we don’t let our faults stop us from anything.

If someone is too weak or shy, they’re quickly pushed away. But if they can handle the power of the waterfall which forces away masks and defenses and they can embrace their true selves, they stick around. Because it’s not often you find someone who is real and knows their faults and hides nothing. Because of this, I have never had to apologize for myself. I have never apologized for being too outgoing or interesting or confident or strong. I have never apologized for being too abrasive. The only sorrys going around are the ones from me to people too scared to make decisions and be themselves.

If you have a strong personality - that is, if you are comfortable with yourself and you can own every facet of who you are, never apologize for it. Because the people expecting the apology are the ones too weak to be comfortable with themselves and the ones who don’t expect an apology are the ones who see that you are being you, as honest and real as you can be. Don’t bother with the weak. Even if it means being single forever, I would rather be single and me than pushing who I am into a tiny box to fit some guy’s expectations.

Needless to say, I’m not bothering with this guy. And I’m not toning it down for future guys, either. I’m happy being myself more than I ever was trying to be someone else and I’m not giving this up for anyone or anything.

The post below is in response to The Man of My Dreams. Below it is my response. I am always taking...

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 01:07:10 -0500

The post below is in response to The Man of My Dreams. Below it is my response. I am always taking submissons for stories, ideas, or extended input on a particular post and will gladly engage in discussion, so feel free to take advantage of that. Thank you for sharing, Brigid!

I don’t usually have those dreams. But somehow I feel like I know him. When I close my eyes and imagine the future I can picture his body, posture, hair, arms, sometimes even his jaw line. It’s in my head of course, but that doesn’t make it not real.

Of course, I’m a small Caucasian brunette and the man I’m picturing is a not-too-tall, muscular, Caucasian brunette, so maybe I’m just imagining someone like me with a heavy dose of fantasy.

But it doesn’t change. That’s the funny thing. Real, imaginary or both, I know him.

You know, I knew a woman who told me that six months after she met her husband she looked at him and realized she was going to marry him. There was just no question any more. It was.

I wonder sometimes.

The similarities between you and him is an interesting thought. I never considered that maybe I was seeing the male version of myself (which would explain why I find him so attractive and perfect, haha). But now that you’ve brought it up, I’m really curious to know if others have imagined a “dream man/woman” who carries their physical characteristics.

I once met someone I had a literal dream about. When I met him, I swore I’d met him before, fully knowing there was nowhere we’d ever have met. Then awhile later, I experienced the dream in real life. In that moment, it gave me these sudden flashbacks. My heart was racing and I remembered what was going to be said just a half a second before it was said. It was a specific and unique experience I had never done before, so I knew it wasn’t deja vu. Afterwards, I remembered that I had written about that dream months before the experience happened. I found the entry, dated two days before I met him. Nothing ever developed between us. Our friendship was brief and barely had a pulse, but things like that make me wonder if I’ll have that heartracing feeling when I meet this mystery guy since it’s happened to me with other people before. I sound downright insane now, but I couldn’t have made it up if I tried.