Best Friends. They are supposed to be there through everything. They’re there through every up, every down, and every in between. Through every crush, every relationship, every breakup, every hot guy, every ugly guy. That’s just the way it works. They finish your sentences and know what you mean when you say things like; “Not that thing, the other, pink-ish thing,” or “the thingamabob at the place a few days or weeks ago.” Through thick and thin, through Brandon, Jay, Steve, James, Taylor, Jordan, Max…
At least, theoretically.
The Failed 3 Musketeers
The Backstabbing Club
The Wannabe Drama Queen
The Dark “Emo” One
The Clueless Packer
The Twin
The Insane Writer
The Torn Popular One… the list goes on and on. Oh yeah, and The One I Fell For.
I blame myself, I let everyone in. When you get close to me go get all of me. I don’t do things half way, you either get all of me or none of me. I am the living, breathing definition of ‘You had me at Hello’. I call it the Law of the Super Nice, Innocent Girl.
The ‘law’ states: For every nice action, there is an equal and opposite rude, backstab-y reaction. This is proven in my everyday life,
Ex 1: You treat someone you –barely-- know like a sister, few months later; a very ‘nice’ letter ends up in your locker. Five pages of everything she hates about you –bull that contradicts it self- that you should change to make her happy.
Ex 2: You have a project you need to work on over the weekend; you open your house as the ‘headquarters’. You ask people to bring some food to snack on and bathing suits so that after you finish the project you can swim in the pool. The same person as described to be the wonderful, dark ‘emo’ one doesn’t bring anything, especially the bathing suit. Mi closet becomes Su closet, nothing makes her ‘figure’ and ‘curves’ look good. She grudgingly puts something on and storms out to the pool. No more than 15 minutes later, she wants food. You rush inside, looking for something to feed the five teenage girls outside, chips and salsa will have to do. Out come the chips and salsa, everyone eats, except- you guessed it!- dark emo girl; because the salsa is “crappy”.
The few months of Super Nice, Innocent Girl and you’re screwed, to put it nicely.
This isn’t a blog to vent on; it’s my journey to find ‘My Perfect Match’.
Is it hopeless? Maybe.
Are my expectations high? You betcha.
Is there a method to my madness? Yep.
This is even an actually ‘journey’? I’m not sure but I’ve got 4 years, countless writing time, and billions of people to meet and it’s what all writers call this type of thing. J
