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So I was commenting in someone else's journal and I had a little revelation about myself. Its probably something that I have known for a long time but just didn't want to own up to it. Most of the time I am so busy trying not to be that girl that every guy dreads that I miss out on relationships. Everything I have read and talked to guys about lead me to the conclusion that guys HATE girls who are clingy. So without even thinking about it I went from a cynical romantic to just downright cynical. I don't even think the pathetic excuses I call relationships should even count. I was so busy being nonobtrusive and cool about the whole thing that I missed out on the fun part. Somehow, I have let myself become the party favor. The chick that would be fun to fool around with but you wouldn't date her. The funny thing is that I don't even sleep around. I have the reputation but not the application. I have slept with 4 men in my whole life. Granted 2 of them were one night stands and one of them probably should have ended after the first time but still I hardly think that constitutes as slut of the month.

Yet, here I am, 22 and the only people that even fiegn real interest live hours away. Sadly, I was even considering going back to my ex for a while. Not the guy that broke my heart but the one whose heart I broke. Funny how when we were together I didn't think I meant anything to him and it took me leaving and 2 years for him to finally tell me how he felt. Part of me hates hime for telling me at all. I mean I can't feel loss for something that I never knew I had. Now I know and it's ruined me. Up until this summer I had never been in love. Never told a single man that I loved him. My mistake was that when I finally did tell him I wanted to hear it back. I know I tried to play it cool and say that he wasn't obligated to say anything but in my heart of hearts I wanted to hear it. I wanted Steve ot pull me in his arms, tell me that he loved me, and promise to never let me go. But that didn't happen. My childish fantasy of what my first love would be like was hopelessly destroyed when he told me not even a week later that I "wasn't what he wanted".

My own angst about all of this is only aggrivated by yet another of my friends getting married. I feel like everyone else has the secret decoder ring and I was the only one to not buy the cereal. When is even odder to me is that despite my obvious failure at relationships, my friends come to me about relationship advice. You know how those that can't do, teach; well I have come to the conclusion that those who can't love, counsel. I help everyone around me have successful relationships and yet I suck when it comes to my own. And being a perfectionist this really gets to me. I have this desire to be good at everything I do and the fact that I can't do this really bugs me. My mom says that I am thinking too hard. That if I just let it go, nature would take it's course naturally. BUt how does someone who is such a control freak and so a**l about everything suddenly give up the riegns of their own life to chance? Donating a kidney would be easier. lol

I need to stop typing now. The more I type the more I have to say and this is getting too long.