SITUATION: CRITICAL

It's fascinating how similar a group of people can be.

Take red-blooded males of the heterosexual persuasion, for example.

They say man created fire, but looking at man, I'm not so sure. Men hardly dare approach fire, most flee in the opposite direction as soon as they catch a whiff of smoke. Some prefer admiring its destructive beauty from afar, others dabble with it to prove themselves. The latter will confront only two possible outcomes:

(1) They get burned and jerk back, having learned their lesson

or

(2) They fool around with it until it has swollen to hellish proportions, at which point everything surrounding them is consumed.

Therefore, it must be women who created fire, because women ARE fire. That's right Prometheus, you conceited ingrate, I went there.

Men fear power, especially when it's in woman's hands. They're inevitably attracted, like a mindless moth, and either narrowly escape on a whim of Lady Luck's or burn in the flames: they cannot control it.


So how many have there been since YOU, darling? Let me count the days... I mean really, I can't believe it even SURPRISES me anymore. They're behavior all follows the same deluded, illogical, patterns of a hyperactive three-year-old: they like me, but they're intimidated.

A declawed jaguar is still a jaguar, I suppose.

I wonder where we failed... It was at the three-month point, that I know for sure....

But did I seem to pushy?

Did you fear rejection?

Was my intellect overwhelming?

Or was it senseless wordplay in your eyes?

Maybe we both fell too fast too hard?

Or only one of us came on too strong?

Neither of us are the kind to dive in.... We're not reckless, not foolhardy, not impassioned young paramours blinded by our torrid love... We're cautious, keen masterminds: we take no risk unless its calculated to succeed....

So please.... all I'm asking is... why? It's been festering in the depths of my conscious, rotting in the back of my mind..... I can't ever let it go-- let you go, but I do what I have to, even if it kills me, because its the principle of the thing that counts.... the rules, what'll be written on the records, not what I'm feeling at the moment....

I'm clawing at you for answers that I know you can't give me... but, you're the only one I hae left... Won't you at least keep the lie up till the very end?

Or is this it?

And has it already come crashing down all around me?

Did I dare deny the Apocalypse?

Am I the lone survivor, left roaming the devastated landscape?

You know what I hate? Attraction. Romance. Love. Man slaughter by any other name. Whatever you choose to dub the bane of humanity since the dawn of time: I absolutley detest it with every fiber of my being. (not the name, the... whatever you decided to call it).

Simply look at what it does to people:

1) Exhibit A: Yours truly. I was scrolling down my posts for the last month or so, and they've all been impassioned tirades about the trials and tribulations of (what I thought) was a sound, secure, immoveable relationship. Epic prose about how my one true love of sparkling eyes and silen locks shattered my heart to one thousand and one shards, lost within the realms of time for all eternity..

And I woke up. I've got a life to live, and I'm wasting it staying cooped up in my shuttered room whining about, who, some guy, that i've let utterly consume my life? The night is young! I refuse to let him bring me to my knees so easily. I'm way more of a challenge than that. I buckled and collapsed, i sobbed my pretty lil' eyes out until they were a hideous beet-red, and all for what? The whims of some insecure, wishy-washy, (albeit highly keen, perceptive, cunning, intelligent, and creative), coward I once loved?

Because of how I surrendered control of myself so

Because of "love", I lost sight of the one true thing that truly matters to me, more than anything else: my ambition. When I should have been prepping for the mission, I was too busy lying on my bed, counting the dots on the ceiling and the seconds, minutes, days, weeks, since we had last spoken.

2) Exhibit B: My darling older sister....

Has become OBNOXIOUSLY self-absorbed with herself as of late. Why, do you ask? Inquisitive minds want to know! 

Three Guesses.

One of the side effects of "love", I discovered, was a chronic speech impediment: i.e. She is unable to shut her mouth longer than the precious few seconds it takes for her to swallow. Other than that, she's demonstrating for us her motor-mouth capabilities 24/7.

Literally, EVERY day for the past two weeks, she hasn't been able to shut her trap from the instant she walks in the door till she falls asleep. ANd she's started calling me up at work, waking me up from sleep, barging in on me in both my room AND the bathroom to tell me all about the same cute, cuddly, gag-me-now tales of her lover and her.

How can you be so utterly ruthless? Have you no shame, you incorrigible little imp? Is there no end to your dastardly schemes? Do you ever fully reflect on the ramifications of your actions?

Well of course you must; you must know the wretched effects they'll wreak upon me or else you'd never have expended the energy in the first place. And here I thought I knew you so well...

What IS it you want from me?? You toyed around, you strung me along, you had your fun, now LEAVE!! You're done with me, remember? Why the sudden glance over the shoulder?! You didn't even need to say it, you just woke up one fine sunny morning, turned your back on me, and severed any connections we once had. A stinging slap in the face, leaving me slack-jawed in the doorway, staring after you.

So I turned around headed back to my life too. We went our seperate ways, it was YOUR call, so leave me the !@#$ ALONE!!! I was doing just fine, recovering perfectly according to schedule, and the scars had almost faded, when suddenly, YOU pop out of God knows where.

Enough of the wishy-washy hesitation; you either want me or you don't. I'm not some slice of cheesecake that you can spend hours debating on whether the calories are worth it or not. If you won't step up, then make way for the line of perfectly eligible suitors who are just begging to have a chance. And who actually have balls (excuse my vulgarity).

There are no second chances, no take-backs, no redos in the game of life. Half a million people want that "control z" maneuver to apply to life just as desperately as you. An opportunity lost is an opportunity dead. If you refuse to put in your share, then stop these vague, tantalizing mind games, stand up, and walk out with what miniscule shred of respect for you I have left.

Don't even act like you didn't know how sauntering back with open arms, after I had sworn I couldn't care less about you, would utterly devastate me. My heart has been stretched and clenched and wrung beyond its limits; I won't dive into that wretched cycle all over again.

It's not the deed, it's how it was done. The ugly way you went about it absolutely killed me. I KNOW you don't want to rush into things you self-absorbed boor, and neither do I!! I would have been absolutely fine, positively wonderful, if you hd just taken me aside and told me everything face to face. You don't want a relationship right now, there are too many dates, deadlines, details, yatta yatta, too busy, priorities, ambitions, etc.etc. That would have been FINE, since I have precisely the same priorities as you. But just disappearing? Vanishing without a trace? You don't just drop out of someone's life one day because you want to slow things down!! WELL CONGRATS, YOU 'VE TAKEN IT BACK TO THE PREHISTORIC AGES!!! NOW,  we can't even speak to eachother like the civil sophisticates we ARE because you BOTCHED EVERYTHING UP  with your "insecurities". That's a bunch of hippie psychobabble rubbish. If you had it your way, women would run around whispering sweet nothings in mens' ear and professing their love upon a bended knee (while of course, being decked out in a skimpy, black-leather outfit, with the go-go boots to match).

Get over yourself. I swallowed my pride and conqured my fears for you. There was one time where I would have gone to the ends of the Earth for you. I've waited all my life, I could have waited for more years. But no, you preferred to complicate everything with your lack of normally functioning social skills. Bloody Wonderful. It's NOT that hard to tell someone the truth you moron, you ought to try it.

Let's wrap things up with a toast, shall we? I'll want to be wasted horribly out of my mind after this.

Here's to never.

Look, I understand. I swear I do.


It's the first time you'll be out on your own, truly free. No mother for whom you need to hastily minimize Facebook when she comes bustling up the stairs with laundry, no Father to level a stern glare at you for that mysterious scratch on his sparkling, brand new Infiniti  sportscar, no brother or sister to pester you about taking too long in the bathroom (you'll be receiving a replacement for the latter, known informally as a "roomate",  (rmmt, rm-) ).

That's right dearheart, you're on to bigger and better things!! Yes, I know!! Isn't it exciting to finally be able to drink out of the carton like an uncultured pig???

Well, I'm sure, though its hard to believe, I wouldn't put it past you, that'll you'll stumble upon even grander things than draining the last of the orange juice: women, for one. And I know under that polished veneer of gentlemanship lurk vile, abyssmal desires, left to fester in the dark for the sake of your reputation. And now, now that the shackles have cracked open and the chains hacked off, you're free. Utterly footloose and fancy-free. That's right darling: you're off the hook, the cameras are off, nobody's watching. And I'm sure, from force of habbit if nothing else, you'll feel compelled to sustain double-standard ( though I must say, I'm surprised at how quickly the facade is starting to peel off...meh, thought you'd last a little longer)

And like any red-blooded, hormone-charged tenage male, you're going to want to dive in headfirst to the rank, rancid scenes of the college underworld, the ones that used to be barred of with yellow caution tape, the one your parents explicitly prayed you wouldn't be involved in. 

Honestly, go ahead. Indulge in those shameless little hussies to your heart's content. Chug down so much beer you wake up naked in the cafateria. Stare in wonder at those photos you have absolutely no memory of.

I don't care; I really don't. To quote the most modern expert on the field (namely you), "Priorities, deary, priorities". I've things to accomplish, awards to win, places to see, people to annoy, I won't watch my life wither away as I stay at home nursing a broken heart. Sorry babe. Looks like you're not the only one getting to big for his britches. Er, her britches. Um, his/her britches??? I'M THE HER YOU'RE THE HIM. DEAL.

I'll try to wait until you decide to settle down, your excellency Emperor B@$t@rd III, but I'll make no promises.

Tata, sweet pea, tata.

I understand his motives all too well only because they so closely mirror my own. On the bright side, the fact that he has to resort to such measures in order to ensure his success betrays the profound affect  I apparently have on him, and hence, his rather earnest feelings for me. Clearly, I’m not some flimsy summer fling he took up to pass the time or he’d be ignoring me altogether… he wouldn’t attribute weight to my words, wouldn’t lend an ear to my opinions, wouldn’t seem so genuinely interested in our conversations. So he has indeed established that he has sincere feelings for me…and I’ve already gathered he’s attracted to me. That sound knowledge coupled with his recent, awkward behavior means he’s looking at me as someone whose substance would merit a long-term relationship… however, there is no way on this sweet Earth he would ever allow something as (in the current circumstances) trivial as a potential romantic pursuit impede  his clawing up the ladder of success. He knows full well, that if he doesn’t start curbing his affections while they’re still in their most innocent stages, if he doesn’t nip the little … association… in the bud while he still can, then, come September, he’ll be carted off to Dartmouth but his heart will remain in Suburbia. He’d be powerless to prevent his mind from frolicking through pleasant daydreams. If he can’t leash his imagination before it runs wild, he’d be compromising his one chance to milk Stanford for all its worth, and considering the enormous expenses and sacrifices both he and his family have had to put in to get him there, risking that is not an option.

Postponing the farewell any longer means that we would both be in far too deep for either one of us to turn back without the other getting highly offended, thoroughly devastating any chance we would have of hitting it off. And considering the emphasis we each put on dignity, when either one of us walks off, we don’t peek over our shoulder. When it’s over, it’s over. There’s none of that back and forth, to and fro, wishy washy rubbish that so many couples seem plod through.

More importantly, that would cripple both our ambitions, that which is dearer to us than the very air we breathe, the very blood that courses our veins. Our ambitions are the very essence of our existence, the vital nectar of our lives. Without a purpose, what good are we? We’d be no more than idle beasts. Get up, eat, sleep.

 So he decided to clip it ever so slightly, to execute a maneuver so ingeniously subtle as to appear perfectly harmless to everyone else, but not so simply inconspicuous as to slip beneath my radar. He knew full well that someone with analytical abilities of my caliber would catch on. Figuring out, as well, that our priorities are so utterly similar, he knew I would understand and reciprocate.

I’ve got to hand it to him: he has indomitable self-control, which only makes me respect him all the more. Heart like fire, mind like ice: yours truly lives by the exact same principle herself.

The aforementioned actions also demonstrate that he has absolutely no intention of dabbling with trifling relationships throughout his college career. Even if he does decide to play the field and partake in a few most… lively… nights… he’ll only allow himself to indulge in those liaisons which will mean absolutely nothing to him, those women whose faces he can hardly remember the morning after. That way, he’ll still get his kicks, but not at the price of clouding his mind, as he would with me… It’s also true, however, that some of the most monumental events of our lives happen without our intentions….

So if he falls in love, if he finds himself enraptured by someone with whom he can communicate one thousand words with a mere glance, with whom he is content to burn the midnight oil just to share company, with whom he can shed his mask and airs and costume, with will he be able to control himself?

Then again… I suppose he just proved to me that he will…. He will indeed.

So I was absolutely BAFFLED upon discovering previously tonight how utterly inconsiderate humanity has become... or has always been really, under that pleasant guise of propriety. A bunch of "please" and "thank yous" mean nothing if the actions are void of good intentions: their hollow, and just done for the sake of conforming to a given code, or to impress your G's.

Anywhoo, so I was at a Bonfire tonight with the gang, and a group of us went to the cove, a more secluded part of the beach, with less violent waves (JUST girls, kick those lecherous thoughts out of your head, PERVS) and after a while they ran off to go get some other friend of ours. It was then that I realized I had forgotten about my stuff, so I was walking back to our pit when I came across Vince, sitting all by himself. (Don't flatter yourself and think you've one-upped me, that's a fake name, putas! ;) I LOVE YOU ALL) So I apologized for our rude behavior, saying it was tactless of us to run off and force you to sit and keep watch over the stuff like a gaurd dog. So he handed me a pile of logs and took one for himself, and we sat by the fire and just chatted the night away.......

Apparently, I have the uncanny ability to disarm people, and charm them out of their insecureties.... get them to fess up their deepest darkest secerets.... fears.... childhood memories... dreams..... It's an incredible power really, I'd reccomend studying it to everyone... learning to pick up on the significant subtleties of himan nature. Just don't start overanalyzing every last detail: life won't be fun if you constantly need to break it down to its bits and pieces.

Now if  only it would work with so-called Mr. Right!! 
 

Hahahaha well, well well, my ever so delightful little friend, you take patheticness to new lows. You redefine what it means to be a coward. I suppose I haven't warranted the right to complain-- since I'll do this to myself and tear my heart apart again and again and  while I'm screaming "When will you LEARN?!?" in my head I'm plunging butcher knives into my own flesh.

It's a vicious cycle that I force myself to slave through, and to hell with Dr. Phil and all his pomp and circumstance: you can't always recooperate- not all scars heal with time. Thus I find myself collapsing to my knees after fighting to get the load off my chest.

All the other guys found/ grew/ bought off the black market the testosterone to do it-- so why haven't you? I mean, honestly, EVEN as shy as you are, that's just pitiful....

I swallowed my pride and conquered my insecurities for you-- and if you REALLY loved me, you should be able to do the same. I promised myself I'd never let myself degenerate into that mindless, smitten, fangirl who HAS to be attatched to her boyfriend's hip 24/7 (insert akward thought-pictures here). But seriously? Not being able to initiate a conversation with me?? Or do so maybe ONCE?!?

COME FUCKING ONNNNNNNNNNNNN!

I can't believe you. I can't fucking believe you , you heartless, conniving, fiend. How could you?!? How the FUCK could you?!?!

Even after all the heartache, and betrayal, and loss I've weathered, I was still enough of a gullible moron to actually BELIEVE someone else had my best interest at heart. What the fuck is wrong with me?! When will I LEARN?

How dare you. How DARE you. I threw the most important thing to me under the bus for YOU, you bastard, expecting nothing more than the same loyalty and devotion, and this is the thanks I get, you ingrate?! This is my reward for being ever so faithful, and loving, and compassionate? For remaing steadfast at your side therough the good, the bad, and the ugly??

I don't need to take your crap, and I won't. I've worked long and hard to become what I am, and won't go groveling at anyone's feet like a desperate whore, not even YOURS. Listen and listen well, you have made your choice. If you DARE attempt to lavish your affections on me in the future I will castrate you with the first rusty key that I find. Or the second. Whichever is rustier. In fact, I don't even have time to schedule you if I intend to realize my ambitions, but I was prepared to put that all, [That's right you jerk, EVERYTHING!! EVERYTHING that I worked for I was prepared to sacrifice in the wink of your eye, had you but given me the signal to] aside for your hopes, sentiments, and whims. Good luck trying to find THAT generosity again, you ruthless cur.

I won't tolerate your pathetic hesitation any longer, you miserable wretch. Enough is ENOUGH, and don't bother wasting your breath trying to preach that "patience is virtue" rubbish to me. There is a FINE LINE, bolded, italicized, undelrined, neon-las-vegas-lights-pointing-to-it, between wise patience and utter resignation. You expect ME to pull the entire weight, while you kick back and enjoy the perks, and maybe, if I'm deserving, toss me a moldy old scrap or two. You're not biding your time to see if I'm truly interested, you're just SITTING there being PASSIVE like some a base cow or something.

You've made a fatal mistake. In fact, I PITY you. Not only have you lost something you will never again find in this world, no matter how remote or exotic a destination you travel to, but also, you have engaged my sense of vengance. Oh yes. If you're a flight or fight sort of man... As if we both don't know what you'll choose? And it's much to late to flee now, my friend. Because even if you do, you know perfectly well I WILL hunt you down. Even if you have changed your name, grown a mustache, died it red, established a new identity as one of Argentina's most sensational gauchos, shredded, burned, and eaten all past records, and killed anyone remotely associated to you, you know as well as I that you will always be peering over your shoulder, scouting for the first sign of me. What a horrible, gut-wrenching way to go, being eaten alive by the parasite that is your own paranoia... until I show up a'knockin' at your door one day and quell all those dark fears of yours I milked to the gamut....

So I say to you, Good Day to You, Sir.

(If you even ARE a man because you sure as hell don't even have the balls to make a MOVE)
 

Alright, duckies, I have a rather splendid little scheme set out for myself.

I will GET A GRIP. And keep it simple. If he answers and/or insta-messages me, I’ll extend the reconciliation period for an undetermined amount of time. However, if he fails to produce his share and live up to his end of the bargain, I’ll dump him on the spot, capice? Clean breaks. No going soft. I've reached a certain crossroad in my life; i have no time for wishy-washy indecisiveness.

 

Time is your most valuable resource. Before I know it, my heart will be pounding in my head as I stare blankly at the MCAT, struggling to recall the specifics of upper division organic chemistry.

My ambition is twenty times more important than some so-called relationship that me and what's-his-face have the “potential” of ending up in. Look, he’s approaching it about as fast as a drugged and incapacitated three toed sloth would, and I just don’t have time for pointless, immature games. I’ve given him a long enough period to get comfortable , he needs to drag himself out of the shallow end and start venturing out into deeper, darker waters. It’s been long enough, and I'm not going to watch the hours fly by while I day dream about what could.

Remember the start of this epic chronicle?

No regrets, no grudges, and most importantly, no wanderings. NO what ifs. I do what I do and if it doesn't work out than blast it all, I'll figure a new approach if it's really worth it, but I WILL NOT DILLY DALLY AND ATTATCH MYSELF TO USELESS AND WHIMSICAL EMOTIONS. That is, quite possibly, the most colossal waste of time possible.

I'm not angry or bitter, because if worse comes to worse and he continues to stall and hedge the current issue, hiding from it under his bed like the macho man he is, I'll still be able to say I learned some of the most valuable lessons of my life whilst dealing with him, ones that can't be taught by textbook , teacher, or private tutor you need to pay an arm and a leg for.

So come what may, i am TOTALLY (hopefully.... please???) prepared. I'm not in the mood to mope if he chooses otherwise. For once in my life, I'll go with the flow instead of relentlessly fighting the current, and see where I end up..........