I lead a decidedly strange life.
Jesus Christ, whoever dates me is going to have to deal with this.
I don’t ask for chaos, but it happens, often.
I don’t dwell entirely on this plane and sometimes I need help or have to give it, it’s mandatory.
Sara and I also had a good giggle about lost boys.
Um, fuck. I think I am Wendy.
When the truth fits I must wear it.
Why can’t I be Star, with a Michael coming to save me?
Because nothing about me needs saving. Although I did steal her wardrobe.
What I need is someone that understands, there will be lost boys. They are going to scratch at the door. A few of them will be quickly turned away, not today Satan, not today. Tomorrow looks bad too.
But the ones that are truly lost?
I am obligated to love them. Not like I love the one I’m with. A pat on the head, a quick darning of the soul when the holes start to show and a bedtime story about how lovely they are. Nothing more nothing less.
The above was written in the time called ‘before’.
I have left the graveyard. For good.
Nothing grows there and I was constantly cutting flowers to put on the tombs. Cutting myself down in the process, to the point where I was constantly bleeding out.
I deserve a rose garden.
I am not to be merely tolerated, I am to be adored.
Boys and the crushes I develop on them have been a hobby of mine for, pretty much the entirety of my existence.
I always felt so lucky to be chosen.
I forgot they were lucky too.
Blame it on my cripplingly low self-esteem.
I always wanted to be wanted, but what about what I want?
I correlated a list of ‘demands’ in my head yesterday, in anticipation of a dinner date with a new boy.
I have to say, I have dated some good looking men in my day but this one…I can’t even find the words to describe him. Stunning.
This time around?
I don’t care.
If I see red flags or feel disrespected in any way, I am done.
There will be no attachments without reason.
Treat me right or show yourself out.
Pick me up, take me out and be sweet to me.
I was thinking out loud to my Mandy Panda stating all of these things that I require and I had a twinge of feeling selfish.
But I ain’t.
Small gestures and courteous behavior begets great rewards.
I am kind, warm, supportive, a spectacular cook and I will happily have all the sex.
I know what I am and I know what I am not. I refuse to lie or manipulate, and I am perfectly happy alone.
There are no more lost boys. I am loyal and lovely.
If this last few years of my life have taught me anything it is that I am still viable and valuable.
I started this journey into singledom with a boy born on Halloween, a day for the dead.
That went down in flames and a friendship rose from the ashes. He’s buried in the graveyard with the rest of them.
This one is born on Valentine’s Day.