"Oh, it's you. Is anyone of consequence home?"
- Jessi to me, finding me on the couch reading the Hobbit
Oh my dear sweet lord, what a mess I've made. I have so thoroughly deluded myself in so many respects that, while I'm beginning to understand the current state of things, I have no idea how it has come this far. Perhaps I could be more vague? The last two weeks have been filled with self reflection regarding my romantic machinations, more specifically the ethos that has informed my decision-making before, during, and after my relationships. All of them. There is a number equal to the amount of people I have slept with. Like your weight or maybe your age, it's a number that I've been rounding down for so long that I'd lost track of the real thing. This number, as it turns out, is very large relative to anyone I know. While I'm not surprised, I'm suddenly a little uncomfortable.
It wasn't my goal to end up here. I've never identified as a ladies man and I've never felt particularly confident as a suitor. I'm not saying I'm not a scoundrel; I just thought that all my good intentions might make up for my flights-of-fancy. Apparently not. So now what? I'm still me and there's nothing to be done about that— but I can use this new clarity to move forward with more... discipline. Already, I feel less pressure to pursue every opportunity that comes up. Which is to say I'm enjoying not feeling the need to, you know, hump every cute girl that comes within arms' reach.
Fucking mynocks, right?* Always chewing on power cables. What's that about?
*obligatory Star Wars reference of the week
- Jessi to me, finding me on the couch reading the Hobbit
I love running at sunset. Everything starts to glow. The temp drops from superfucking hot down to very warm. I've taken to bringing my camera along to try to catch the little jems I pass on my loop around campus.
It wasn't my goal to end up here. I've never identified as a ladies man and I've never felt particularly confident as a suitor. I'm not saying I'm not a scoundrel; I just thought that all my good intentions might make up for my flights-of-fancy. Apparently not. So now what? I'm still me and there's nothing to be done about that— but I can use this new clarity to move forward with more... discipline. Already, I feel less pressure to pursue every opportunity that comes up. Which is to say I'm enjoying not feeling the need to, you know, hump every cute girl that comes within arms' reach.
Fucking mynocks, right?* Always chewing on power cables. What's that about?
*obligatory Star Wars reference of the week
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