you and me could write a bad romance.

I'm not sure what it is but for some reason I only ever attract boys who aren't good for me.  By the same token I'm only ever attracted to boys I can never have; boys with girlfriends, boys with emotional baggage, boys with criminal records.

If I believed in all that "The Secret" hocus pocus, I could conclude that I'm getting back the result of what I give out.  I'm going to hope like hell that's not the case.  Not that my signal-reading skills are anything to go by, but I'm pretty sure I don't give out "I'm an emotional retard - please let me cheat on you or take your everything then change my mind".

I don't get what it is though.  I never like the good guys.  The good dependable guys that I'm supposed to want to build my forever with.

I think I just get bored too easily.  I need it to be dramatic or risky or exciting or I don't feel like it's real.  Something in my subconscious has decided it's just not worth my time if I'm not going home to cry myself to sleep.


It's like I only know how to flit between two extremes - silent agonising boredom complete with hay bales on one end and over-the-top crazy jerry springer drama at the other. Anything indecipherably between the two and I'm completely at a loss with what to do with myself.


I think my heart operates on a bit of a reverse-psychology basis.  I can't love him if he's good because that makes me a conformist.  It's too neat, too clean, too perfect.  Tell me he wants me back and I'm suddenly creeped out that he's too keen, too needy; worried that he'll smother me to death with affection.


But tell me I can't have him - that it won't work - that he doesn't even know I'm alive and suddenly I want him bad.


One of these days I will learn my lesson.  Promise. Til then it's a work in progress.


Lesson Sixteen: Know your worth. 

stupid cupid stop picking on me.

How do you get to contentment without having to go through the awkwardness of dating?  I'm not sure if I'm just missing the gene that makes you want to embark on that whole expedition or if I'm just lazy but quite frankly, it’s exhausting.  The little white lies and the mind-games that no-one ever wins and the unspoken codes that you're not supposed to violate and the invisible scorecard you're marking his qualities up against the minute he opens your door; memorising every detail, hoping he'll come across good enough in the compulsory post-date debrief with the girls.

It's kind of like a test you can't study for but worse because you never know how you did or if you're even on the right track. In fact, I'm tired just thinking about it. And to make it worse, the whole time you're having this inner monologue - about whether or not you should say the funny thing that just popped into your head in case he thinks you're weird coz you're talking to yourself - you're supposed to be effortlessly witty and charming and seductive all at once.

Am I the only one who obviously slept right through "Human Interactions: Romantic Relationships 101" at birth?   Because most other people seem to get through it with relative ease and some even manage to do it with enviable flair. But me? I'm still trying to figure out where the rules are written. The ones that say I'm supposed to be his everything without losing 'me' in the process. The unwritten code of conduct that tells you to smile at his jokes, flit effortlessly between intelligence and naivete and still toe the line of enthusiasm without falling into an abyss of desperation.

It's a complicated little dance that everyone else seems to know the steps to - the 'making less of things so you don’t seem petty'.  The 'making more of things so he seems impressive'.  Trying to reach that happy medium of cool and vulnerable.  So that it doesn’t look like you need a man.  Or even that you want  one.  Just that he should work hard if he wants to be yours.  All that seems to be inbuilt in the average person but mostly, it just grates on me.

I'm hoping some day I'll have this whole game figured out.
Otherwise, I had better get to liking cats.

Lesson Twelve: Play to win.

Have a lovely week. xx