What does this mean?

Let’s say you message someone online or through an app, and you both get really into the conversation, replying to each other’s messages quickly. The conversation gradually steers from general chit chat to more sexual stuff, and you end up talking about all the dirty things you want to do to each other. This person says they can meet you the next day to do said sexy things, and you get really excited about it because aside from the conversation being really hot, this person doesn’t come off as a complete moron (and it doesn’t hurt that they are good-looking).

The day comes and you’re super excited until class finishes so that you can meet them. When you do, you end up having a great time; yes, there was sex with plenty of making out and all that, but it was different in that instead of tearing off each other’s clothes and going crazy like you might have thought, it was slow, unrushed. It seemed passionate.

When things were done, you put your arms around them and fell asleep a bit, something that never happens when hooking up. You had to get home though, and they offered you to stay the night. It was sweet gesture, you thought, but maybe some other time.

The next few days, you want to meet up again but they say they are busy. At one point, they pointedly say something along the lines of, “I don’t want to do stuff with you again” and offer to be friends.

So I’m confused. What does this mean? Are they just being a complete jerk? Am I wrong for getting upset? Was there really not much there to begin with? But how to explain the sleeping over thing? I feel like such a girl about feelings and shit when apparently no gay guys out there care about stuff like this. It affects me a lot, more than anyone really knows. And if I bring it up, I seem like an emotional, clingy weirdo, but I feel like it’s society that has conditioned people to think feelings and talking about them are weird.

Ugh. Fuck.

motif

motif: You don’t love me as much as I love you, you don’t love me as much as I love you, you don’t love me as much as I love you… From David Levithan’s novel, The Lover’s Dictionary.

When I read that part in David Levithan’s book, I realized it might actually apply to my life.  Maybe I did love G. more than he loved me.  I definitely needed him more than he needed me.  Last night, at the Dan Savage show, we were invited to write down questions for Dan to answer.  I coudln’t think of anything to ask him until midway through the night, I had one: What if you’re with someone who you love, but feel that they don’t love you as much?  What do you do?  I’m trying to be objective about it as I can, but I don’t think there’s a right answer to that question.  I think no matter what you do, you’re going to get hurt.  That being said, of course, this theoretical couple could work things out and be happy, so it wouldn’t be all bad.

I think I might send this question to Dan and see what he thinks.  Anybody have any thoughts?

Dilemma

I have to go to work but I have a dilemma.  A dilemma about boys.

Losing my romanticism

My ex once told me, “Life isn’t like a movie where the gay character comes out and everything is good.”  And even though I didn’t tell him, I thought, “Why not?”  After all, although movies feature fictional stories and characters, there must be some sort of reality or truth on which they’re based, right?

My other ex told me the other day, “Glee and Twilight are fictional.  They’re made for people to enjoy, to believe.”  And then I thought the same thought as before. Sure, the invisible Rachel eventually getting the crush of her dreams– the quarterback of the football team, nonetheless– might be created for teenage girls to watch and swoon over, but that’s not to say it doesn’t happen.

Maybe I’m the only one out there who believes that airport-chase scenes and interrupted-wedding scenes are possible, are a sure way to get back the person you love or at the very least, make them see that you love them, so that later, they would do the same for you and you’d end up together.  Yes, I would be the one to do these things.  Maybe it isn’t realistic to believe that it happens when I’m the only one to believe they do.  Maybe I’m the only one who would do them.

And I have done them.  Not as dramatic as a running after someone in an airport before their flight leaves, but on a smaller scale.

But things went differently for me.  There was no, “I see things differently now.  Let’s get back together” or “I’ve been really sad without you too.  Would you like to try us again?”  Maybe I did things wrong.  Maybe my exes just really didn’t want to get back together with me.  However, the more I think about it, the more I’m begining to see that nothing is guaranteed.

I said to my ex that day, “Maybe stories are just unhappy realities with happy fantasies tacked on as endings.”  The more I think about it, the more I realize maybe my first ex was right.  Maybe life is not like a movie.  Maybe it’s time for the romantic who finally put away these scenes are only fantasies and not realities.

I have been watching this scene over and over again from The Broken Hearts Club for the past few days.  It kills me every time Howie starts to say, “I hope that you’re happy together.  I hope that this works out and he’s everything that you need.”

I think I need to accept that sometimes, once things are over, they are over.  I can try to hypothesize solutions or analyze what went wrong in order to figure out possible suggestions.  That isn’t a bad thing.  But a relationship is two-way; I can’t always be the one with suggestions when the other person doesn’t want to listen or help come up with things.  I think I need to take a step back from these movies, shows, and books and see that you don’t always get what you want, and some people don’t want to get back together or work things out.  There aren’t always happy endings no matter what I think or do.

Not all the Howies get their Marshalls back.

[scene starts around 4:25]

 

The Tide is High

Written during one of the workshops of the New Shoots program in high school, and is one of the few things I wrote during high school that I am somewhat proud to share.

The Tide is High

In, out.  In out.  The water runs up the sands on Io Beach, then retreats, like a scared fourth grader who has seen a spider.  But it comes back, stronger than before, only to fade back again.  And along the shores, I sit and watch my free movie.  The sun warm me in such a way that I think my soul is even warm, or that could be my getting a sunburn.

“Jane, let’s go!  The water is, like, totally making my hair dry out!” screams my friend Fiona.  She emerges out of the water looking like Aphrodite (at first glance) but as she gets closer, she resembles something closer to Medusa.

I sigh.  “Alright, Fi-ho-na.  If your hair that much to you.”  I get up and shake out the sand that has traveled to my underwear, all the while hearing her shrieking, “No!  I so do not have split ends!  Noooo!”

Back in my room, I’m alone.  Now I can finally focus on my homeowkr.  ya… I pull out my geometry homeowkr.  I know all about special triangles, but for some reason, I can’t focus.  Another sigh.  I pull out my yearbook and flip to a bookmarked page.  Ah… there he is, again.  Just like I remember him.Well, I actually look at this picture every day, so I don’t know how I wouldn’t remember him.  The picture consists of one guy sticking his index finger up his nose while a few of his friends laugh.  I smile and stare at it dreamily.  Oh, how I long to be that beautiful finger in that beautiful nose.  Seriously though.  I’m that desperate and brainwashed, just like every other 15 year old teenager who reads Cosmogirls.  Chris, oh Chris.  It’s you I want.

****

My brother and I both like the same girl.  How screwed up is that?  Then again, we’re twins, so that might explain it.  At school, I’m walking down the hallway and I see her.  I have to avoid seeing her in order to not let my brother know I’m seeing her.  Believe me, he knows these things.  He knows everything.

But not today.  Today, I have the confidence and strength to talk to her.  And give her flowers and chocolates.  After all, it’s Valentine’s Day.  I just hope my bro doesn’t find out.

Suddenly, she comes out of the Math room.  I follow her but can’t seem to call out.  It looks as if I’m stalking her.  Be brave, Anthony!  Be brave!

“Jane!”

Wait.  That wasn’t me.  Wait, it was me.  Then who…

In front of me is Jane.  And directly in front of her is Brian, my twin.  What are the chances we both said her name at the same time?

He’s carrying flowersand chocolates in his hands.  How lame is that?  So it’s just three of us standing in the hallway.  Like a triangle.  A special triangle.

[I think I was trying to write something about triangles and geometry but I didn’t have time to incorporate it.  I like the idea though!]

choking on normal

choking on normal

they all tell me to be normal
but really what “normal” is i don’t know like
they say “normal” is acting like a man
but i heard somewhere that i should be
myself they say “normal” is doing work but i heard
not to take everything so
seriously the say “normal” is acting
your age but i saw people growing up too fast
they say “normal” is going to school after high
school but that’s not what i want for me they
say “normal” is falling in love with someone of the opposite
gender but im already in love with a boy that ive
Sean
around they say “normal” is being happy and
living my life but its too hard when i was depressed and
thinking about not breathing again they say “normal”
is acknowledging your parents but how can i if she is constantly
screaming at me and he isnt there to protect me they say “normal” is
devoting yourself to a religion but i dont want to be part of
something that preaches hate
they all tell me to be “normal”
what
is
normal?