I don’t understand a lot of things about myself. I guess I have also been lying to you by telling you that you will never understand who I am completely. In all honesty I’m not at all as interesting or different as I think I am. I am merely myself, in the most honest ways.
I don’t like to talk about my problems because I would rather not deal with them, and instead bury them until that feeling of pain is subsided. My problems are only mine to deal with and I would rather not burden others with my dark and twisted mind. I cut through my own flesh remind myself that pain is only temporary and things heal over time, whether you do anything to help ease the pain or not, is irrelevant.
I can be the life and soul of the party, or the wallflower sipping a G+t all night next to a few friends. It all just depends on how I’m feeling that day. My music is random and my taste varies from Rupaul to The smiths, and everything in between. I don’t understand a lot of things, and I try my best to be as accepting as possible. I’m not the prettiest and I compare myself against everyone else I see no matter where I am. But I won’t ever not talk to someone because they’re not like me.
I analyze every little thing anyone ever says to me, no matter how much or how little they know me. I feed off of other peoples thoughts and ways of thinking because I’m not sure I have my own mind set straight yet. I need to know how other people view me, not because I care what they think, but because I find it interesting to know how someone else can see things in a completely different light than I.
I change all the time, and my mood is insanely warped and can switch with the changing of a song, or a phrase that gets twisted in my head. I am not loving or even kind, and I can’t ever stay in a relationship because they make me deal with problems I don’t want to deal with. I hate being in them because all I want to do, is run. Nothing to me is worth heartbreak I’ve endured too many times. Pain is hard to deal with and I obviously don’t deal with it in any kind of healthy manner.
I’m also as vain as Cleopatra and will be the first to tell you that. I can’t leave the house if my hair and makeup isn’t done, and if my eyelashes don’t look fake, I’m not happy. I thrive in vintage stores in the East Village, and shopping in Soho with Jamesy, because that’s where I belong. New York is just as crazy as I am. And that is the only place I feel I can be myself without any kind of compromises.
I can fall in love and write love letters that would make you cry, and then I can turn as cold as ice without any warning. I don’t want to be loved, because I know that no matter how much someone loves me, they can always find someone better. Whether they admit that fact or not. People like me are only meant to be enjoyed in very limited ways, and we are not meant to be put up with by someone for very long.
Jamesy is my best friend soul mate, and that’s just how it is with us. Tyler said that no one would ever accept my friendship with James and how close we are because I always put him first and defend our friendship too ferociously for anyone to ever want to be with me. He also said that I would be lonely after James left too and I wouldn’t have anyone else. I guess I’ll take my chances.
I can’t stand belonging to anyone anymore. And you can be mad at that all you want, but I’ll never settle down, or want to be with one person the rest of my life. I wander too much and have too free a spirit to do that. I don’t want to hurt anyone and I don’t want to be hurt. So for a long time now, I have gotten use to not getting attached.
When I saw myself getting attached to Tyler, I recoiled as quickly as I could and got the fuck out of that situation. I’m sorry I ever let it get that far, because I hurt a really good guy who always deserved better than me.
I can’t see myself getting married or having children or even being with one person for more than a year. I can’t do it. It scares me, being that involved with someone. I would rather be on my own, and do whatever I want with who ever I want whenever I want. I don’t care if that makes me a slut, or too wild. It’s what I want, and frankly, I am going to live life large, and make no apologies for who the fuck I am.