Gay shit and feelings Part Deux

I hate myself for becoming so reliant on another's attention. The seesaw-esque banter, the quasi-sexual idle chatter was more than just that, it was the sole source of attention that I so desperately craved. And I got what I craved, like a junkie getting his hourly fix. I'm not trying to be funny, the metaphor is extremely fitting. I'm, bummed, you would say, a little bit at the lack of reciprocation. And like some junkies, relying on escapism to take me out of the withdrawals, I.E. reading Alan Moore comics, writing my play, and playing drunken Monopoly.

And with these realizations, I further comprehend that I am weak. I let myself get entranced by all this attention, not considering the consequences when it would be inevitably taken away. And while I may be able to justify it, rationalize it perhaps as "just human," maybe I don't want to be human. I don't want to suffer from this stupid withdrawal, which shouldn't even be that big a deal. But it is. If it makes me think I'm weak, it definitely is taking a toll on something.

I understand why this "heroin" was taken away from me. She moved on, past my stupid, idiotic words, beyond my platitudes and confessions, like the person she is: not one to dwell on idiocy and negativity. And despite my rampant cynicism and caustic critique on others that do, I find myself to be a hypocrite, guilty of that which I deride others for. I am glad of two things, that I realize my own hypocrisy and her ability to roll with the changes. But at the same time, I also feel like I'm no longer important, even though I probably hold some modicum of importance in her life, no matter how small. But again, the banter that used to downright pollute our conversations has been completely annihilated, to the point were I don't even want to talk any more, because I know there won't be those sparks of attention, those little exciting moments.

How does one fix this problem? As a friend of mine said, simply get over her. And despite my best efforts, I can't seem to bring myself to do it, or try. Not only because I would lose, for sure this time, the aforementioned attention, but also the one girl I ever loved. Corny, for sure, but I can't describe how I feel any other way. From the beginnings of my realization that I liked her, as time marched on, those feelings just became more and more powerful, and now, it seems they can't be removed, no matter how hard I try. Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. But I'm holding onto that last thread of hope like a two-year old hanging onto a security blanket. That's what I am. A toddler, clouded by too many emotions.

I really had to purge these thoughts from my head. I couldn't stand just thinking about it any longer. My hope is that shit just goes back to normal, 100%, as if nothing ever happened, as if I never divulged my feelings. But that's wishful thinking. I'll be lucky if it goes back to 50%. Here's hoping. If there's anything I learned in the past two months is that repression is bad. Let it all hang out. I'm probably coming off as crazy and needy, but I swear that isn't the case. Le sigh.

Sorry, princess. I've just dropped another bomb on you. I hate doing this to you, but like I said, I seriously can't keep it inside any longer. I realize you don't need these kinds of drama and complications in your life, and you shouldn't have to deal with it. For that, I apologize. I'm still hoping for things to return to normal. Lastly, I hate how impersonal this is, ranting over a blog entry. I would think that this kind of thing deserves better.