On the phantom betrayal

The phantom betrayal. Something quite hilarious (to me) happened on one of my morning commutes to work that will shed light on what a weird little brain I have. For months I would see this nondescript girl on the train. Without fail, every time I boarded the train, late or not, she'd board at the next stop.

A couple of weeks passed and I had not seen her. As I wasn't interested in her in any way I didn't really think much of it. To be quite honest, I had forgotten she even existed; she was wiped clean from the memory banks.

One morning, I noticed her running to stop the guillotine like doors of the New York City subways at the expense of a limb. She made it, extremities intact, I saw her, and instantly began to wonder why she was not at her regular stop. Mind you these thoughts all happened in a nano second while watching her trot to the train.

A second later I see a young man run behind her and in the unmistakable routine pulled by every couple/pair/frenemies/acquaintances she walked and turn around to face him as he caught up. This. This was her new boyfriend. I watched them as he leaned up against the door and she delicately held on to him instead of the provided safety poles strewn throughout the car.

I was livid. My eyes became all squinty in the fashion of someone noticing their sworn enemy from across the room. Had I a sword, I probably would have unsheathed it halfway, letting the light of the day glint off the shiny steel, as if to indicate an invitation to a fight to the death. I glared and cringed. I grit my teeth and angrily sighed. I was heartbroken. I was duped. I was betrayed! In my mind she was MY morning companion and no one else's despite never uttering a word to her. Her obvious act of war and outright show-offery infuriated me. I didn't want her but I guess I wanted no one else to have her either. She was mine. We rode close by in complete silence and once off the train walked in the same direction to work. She had left me for another!

I'm clearly insane so I got over it as quickly as I had erupted and never gave it a second thought until I decided to pen this and share it with you lot. I'm happy for her. She's not that cute and her gentleman caller was of the attractive set. Good for her.

The moral of this story is I'm a very jealous person without regard as to whether it's justified or not. Some times there's no room for logic and reason when ideas like that bounce around my noggin. I like that.

Love,
b.

On crushes versus loves/likes

I'm not the biggest R&B fan out there. Every once in a while though, some slow jam from the 90s will creep into my subconscious without so much as a recent listen. Not sure why this would happen or even why my brain box is trying to inject some sort of romantic tune into me. I'm kind of exhausted with the whole dating/liking/loving thing. I'm more into crushes now. Crushes are safe. Crushes can fade. You can admire a crush from a distance and never put yourself in harms way of some, ahem, crushing blow. Yeah, I meant that pun. Kill me.

You can have a crush on a friend and never tell them. It can come and go or linger forever but calling it a crush, and nothing else, allows you to suppress; suppression you hope will never bubble over creating a foamy mess dripping down the side of your love stove. Uh... did I just fucking say love stove?! Kill me twice.

I think the best part of having a crush is being able to be around that person and suffering in silence. The mere fact they sit next to you from time to time and make sounds out of their mouths in the form of words you're only half listening to because you're enthralled by their cute ass faces, is enough.

We all hope our crush is crushing back but the only way to find out is to risk everything you've had up to that point... or not. Who knows? I'm no expert so why are you even listening to me, reader?! But, for some one with nothing to lose, this can be fun. Destroy everything in your wake because you never know what you'll discover in the rubble. Think about that people crushing on people. Think about that.

love,

b.

On the simpler joys

Your world is incredibly shiny. Trinkets of all sizes layering every surface. Jewel shaped objects filled with the scent you so delicately leave behind. The frantic darting movements from mirror to mirror as you play dress up. The transformation from what I thought was flawless and beautiful to an even greater version put together with the charms only a charmed life can acquire. The beautiful. The ever present. The scene stealer. The quiet stand out from the crowd. The one everyone will talk about tomorrow. On my arm for a fleeting moment. I too, now, adorned with charms only a charmed life can acquire. And for a second... perhaps even a fragment... I fell in love and was inconsolably heartbroken, simultaneously, while wrapped in a warm New York City evening. The perfect way. The only way that really makes sense of such a confusing combination of neural transmissions firing all at once. Part re-conjured memory, half irrational expectation, most fed by mind altering substances, all pointless and completely selfish. I love everything about everything but I'll most assuredly destroy it all, motherfuckers.

love, 

b.

On NOT being the first chosen

I feel like I've never been someone's first choice. Ever. I've been dumped for the other guy. I've been ditched for the cooler crowd. I've been pushed aside for the person waiting behind me. Somehow I was able to learn not to let any of them phase me too much... until now.

Okay so here's my beef. When you win 2 free tickets to a concert the first person you should call is your best friend right? When you go away on a long trip you should want to call your boyfriend every once in a while instead of your mom and your best friend right? WHEN YOUR COUSIN WHO YOU GREW UP WITH LIKE A TWIN BROTHER IS GETTING MARRIED AND HE DOESN'T AUTOMATICALLY PICK YOU AS BEST MAN... it's okay to die a little inside, right?

I mean, this is it! If there was ever any ceremonial way for two guys to say, "Yeah Bro, this shit is for life." it's this right? What else is there? Why was I beat out?! How is it so clear in my mind that if I were getting married I'd pick no one else but him as my best man? Why was it not as easy for him?!

Now, I know this is just a stupid title attached to a moronic tradition of which I shouldn't care much about but damn it! I thought I had this first pick in the bag. I was looking forward, chest swelled with pride, convinced there could be no way I wasn't going to be the first pick this time and... nothing.

I feel like I've been passed up yet again but this time it's not some stupid chick I only half liked to begin with. This time it hurt. This time I didn't get angry. This time I didn't get down on myself. I was just... deflated.

On being too eager

I'm too eager. But I also might be too hard on myself. But I also might be onto something. But I also know I get myself into trouble because my eager little, tail wagging, pup of a brain goes all screwy the minute a pretty girl shows me some affection. Couple this with the fact I think every girl I come in contact with likes me on some level and you got yourself a really screwed up mind for romance. Hey, I'm just being honest here. No pulling punches. I'm fucked up.

I hate this about myself. A drop of attention comes my way and I'm all a flutter about it. I guess it's endearing with respects to being able to wholeheartedly fall head over heels for some one without restraint. But it's also annoying because it all seems a bit naive and childish to me to do so. I can't keep my cool. I've never just 'dated' someone casually that I didn't genuinely really like. I can't fake it like that. I've always been in committed relationships. I'm a serial monogamist.

I've had a string of bad luck lately. Short relationships that are ultimately horrid and petty. Girls that give me green lights to pursue them and then disappear completely. Internet girls who throw themselves at me knowing the vast distance between us gives them the courage to act as such, then when called on it, never actually pull the trigger. Why this constant search for a chick to be next to me? I was plenty hugged as a child! I was never starved for affection! So where does this all come from?!

I think I'm looking for something too hard. Whenever anyone does that they never find what they want. They just frustrate themselves even more. I'm drowning myself in work at the moment and muffling any latent feelings for people. I want nothing to do with girls or relationships or sex or anything. It's all too confusing. I'm done for the rest of the year until I move away from NYC and can start completely anew. I'm going to stick to what is familiar and easy and real. It's the only way I can stop myself from running through the streets screaming like a crazy person.