Sitting on a couch in Charlotte, NC, thinking deep thoughts. I’m pondering on why I do some of the things I do. For example, today I got some text messages I answered, and some I didn’t…some I just deleted upon receipt. Others I answered with glee, with heart, with delicious anticipation of a response.
I don’t think it would surprise anyone else if I say that in my personal life, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing most of the time. Small scale, I’m sure I want what anyone else wants: I wanna get laid with some regularity, I wanna get flowers and a little romance, I wanna be loved by someone who wants my love…while most might not be so crass in their description, I think those are pretty accurate words to sum it all up.
Beyond that, I seem to get all tripped up. I end up chasing dead ends often. I end up feeling lonely.
The lonely part can be hard to explain. I’m an introvert. I like and need to be alone a lot, but I still want to know someone is there for me. I need someone who loves me but has their own shit to do, who is glad to see me but won’t cling to me like I’m their life raft.
I’m still somehow a heart on my sleeve optimist. I make myself vulnerable, get hopeful, and the same old hammer drops, but with different characters. Different players, but same ending.
I’m not sure why this song lyric has been replaying in my head all day, but it’s nonstop. “What I wanted is what I wanted; what I wanted is what she wanted.” It’s from an STP song. Is it because I *think* I know what the other person wants, but I find out I’m wrong and end up empty-handed/empty-hearted every time to this point?
I want to be pursued…is that possible? I know that I’m hard to approach as both an introvert and an Alpha wolf type of personality. I’m both fierce and solitary, but dammit all to hell, I am so loyal to my people, my tribe. If I ever loved you as my partner, surely to goodness if nothing else, you can attest to my loyalty and fidelity even on your worst days. I believe in my lovers, their magic and their potential, even when they have forgotten it for themselves.
This is all a confusing ramble because my thoughts and feelings are a jumble. My bed is empty, and while that’s an overshare, so what? I speak my tangled up truths and wish for something different.