That will never be me

I think what it really boils down to is that I simply cannot fathom any guy wanting to spend time with me. Actually wanting to hold my hand or to cuddle on the couch or kiss me in public.

Other women? Sure! They'd love to be with them. They're confident and exercise and dress cute and they get pop culture references and know the rules of The Price Is Right. They can carry on theological and political conversations without sounding like a child and don't constantly invite people to do things out of fear that they'll miss out on something. They don't stand watching a band, holding a cup of ice water contemplating pouring it over themselves because that would be a visible indication of giving up trying anymore.

Of course the men want to be with the normal, self-confident, non-psychotic ones. But me? No, that's just laughable.

This is how I feel. I know that it's wrong, but knowing is different from feeling and in my gut, I feel completely unlikeable in a romantic way. It has been exactly 2 years since my last boyfriend broke my heart and 1 year and 6 months since I have been more than ready to move on, to start dating, to put my confidence back in the idea of romance and love. But as the months have ticked by and I've shifted my focus from one potential to the next and gotten absolutely nothing in return, all while watching others succeed, it, well, it wears you down. It doesn't make you feel good about yourself at all.

2 years. I told myself for a long time that God was just giving me time to recover and mature. I liked to say that he was "growing me." I liked that idea because in looking back at all of my previous relationships, most weren't especially mature and they weren't how I would want to live the rest of my life. I needed to grow into a confident and mature woman, capable of loving and being loved without being a psycho. That thought worked for a long time, but now I just don't know what to think.

For now, I just laugh at the songs where a guy is crazy about a girl, because that's obviously not a true story. And I don't so much look at the cutesy couples with envy, but more with bewilderment, wondering how on earth that could have happened. And what am I doing wrong?

Celing fans

I was a good roommate today and called to get a ceiling fan installed in my roommate's bedroom. I have one and a lot of the other apartments here have them in both rooms, so I figured it couldn't hurt to ask. She was happy and wondered when it would be installed (not sure) and did I ask about getting our ancient a/c unit replaced? No, because I'm 99.9% sure the answer will be no. If I'm here when they install the fan, I'll ask. Otherwise, she can call.

See, my apartment complex is owned by the church across the street. They started buying up the condos about 10 years ago and renting them as apartments through a rental management company until all of them are bought (there's 23 left) and they can tear the place down for athletic fields or a parking lot or whatever else they feel is needed. The church is already ginormous, with buildings on both sides of the road and a brand new parking deck and student ministry building with a coffee shop. Oh, and it's my church :)

But anyway, what I'm getting at is that while the management company keeps the place livable, there's no denying these apartments are old. Built just after WWII from what I've heard. And knowing that they're just going to be torn down eventually, the church is very unlikely to fund things like replacing an a/c unit that was installed in 1972 (it says so right on the thing!) I get that. And as a result, I'm satisfied to suffer just a little bit and use fan and open windows.

Oh, and tonight? I came home and she was turning down the air. I was already in a pissy mood and pretty much snapped at her and said something very passive agressive about how I don't make a lot of money and she said she understood. Whatever. I fixed a bowl of cereal and came up to my room to sit in the dark in order to conserve energy.

And ate half a sleeve of Thin Mints. Now I just feel ill.

I'm happy to just open the windows and sleep nekkid

I miss living alone. My roommate is ok, we get along fine, but she's always there and always wants to talk and worst of all, we have very different thoughts regarding the thermostat. It's a good thing I'm a nice person and weak and don't stand up to her or we'd have some serious issues.

In my last 2 apartments, I don't think I turned on the air conditioning until July. Keep in mind that I live in the south where it gets miserably hot and humid in the summer and when those dog days hit, I'm more than happy to pump the cold air through. I've been fortunate enough to have a very well shaded apartment close to a river, so the air stayed a little cooler and I'd just open the windows and then the next one was basically a basement and didn't get very hot (But I learned that the humidity can cause a nasty mold problem if the air's not running. Oops.) I'd usually shut the windows early July and enjoy a couple months of AC.

But it's MARCH 8! We're in the middle of a warm spell and it got up to 77 today, so she comes home at 11:45pm and asks if we can turn the air on just a little bit. This is the same girl who wanted the heat on the second it dipped below 65 outside and complains of being cold all the time, as though it's my fault and I have some control over the weather or our antiquated heating and air system. She can't sleep when she's cold. But apparently she also gets really hot at night and so she needs the air on. Yeah, this is the same person.

She's going to be awful to be around come late April when it really does get warm and this apartment doesn't have good air flow, so it can become warm very quickly indoors. Me and my wallet prefer to suffer with the windows open and a ceiling fan, but she gets paid more than minimum wage and can afford to run that horrible, energy-sucking thing. Not sure how to handle this.

Revelation and Weirdness

Tonight was weird. And it helped me to have a revelation. Revelation first, then weirdness:

I keep saying I want a real relationship, something meaningful that grows over time that will last a life time, but when I really am honest with myself, I just want the physical part. I miss so desperately the physical part of a relationship - the hand on my back, the arms around waists, the intertwining fingers, the grazing fingertips on skin, the lips, the gaze, the touch. It's been 2 years since I had any of that and I need it so badly.

I quite honestly feel like I have an idea of what some of the kids I work with who have autism experience. Many of them crave that physical stimulation, the box of beads to bury their arms in or that vibrating toy that feels so good on their face. Some of them can only focus if I have a tight grip around them on my lap while we play on the computer. I wonder if there's ever been a study done on singles and the craving of physical stimulation.

So that's my revelation. If I could get away with a one-night stand or just making out with someone, I would. I even briefly considered running off to Vegas for a few days and pretending to be someone I'm not. But I think I just have to suffer. End of revelation.

The weirdness was as follows. Number one, I'm exhausted. I'm working too hard and not getting enough sleep. So I was going to call it a night tonight and stay home and sleep, but then I got word of a party in my complex and just took a nap before heading over. Great! Throw on a t-shirt and flip-flops and go hang out for a chill evening. Well, this party turned out to be drinking a beer, running home to change, going downtown for an overpriced meal, and going to part of a concert.

All this was me and 3 guys, two of whom I'd consider crushes, the other one I'm pretty sure had a crush on me a few months ago. I had a good time, dont' get me wrong, but it's making me see how different I am from college-me. I should have been ecstatic to be going out with these three guys, I should have had my A-game on, but the most I could do was dress a little attractively, drink beer, and talk about cheesy pick-up lines. My god, where have I gone? I'm annoyed with myself. I don't like myself. I feel totally socially inept and lame. I don't even remember how to flirt.

And that's when it hit me that I want to flirt not to get a date or hang out more, I want to flirt to get one of those 2 guys to go home with me or invite me in for a drink (it's plausible, we all live in the same complex) and make out on the couch.

There was much more weirdness, including letting down several girl friends by saying I wasn't going to the concert but then showing up with the boys and then leaving early, and realizing that I was in the bar where the last guy I had any form of intimacy with used to work, and realizing that I don't know how to carry on a conversation, and remembering blue glass, but I'm still processing it all.

And on that note, I'm going to sleep so that I can get up and work all day tomorrow. Shoot me now.