So, uhm as you all know, I’m back home. And it was New Years. And I didn’t have anyone to spend it with. Until 8:30 pm on the 31st. Which, was why it was probs one of the best NY’s I’ve ever had.
I ended up in this random house at this random guy, who was sortha cute, with a friend of mine. I’ve only met him once, but I was like f*ck it, like I have any other better plans like eating руска (ruska) and watching Преспав (macedonian tv show) with my parents.
And then we hit my second home that is JazzIn and saw all the great people.
I was even greeted by people saying how cool my blog is (aw shucks, thanks y’all).
We danced. We drank some good a** rose wine. It was a good start of the year. Except that already on Jan 1st, I broke off my New Year’s resolution.
It was probs one of the better nights in my life, given that in the second half of 2019 I’ve been working my pretty a** off.
I deserved a break, didn’t I? So I took it.
And then he showed up and f*cked me up. The good way. You know that stupid feeling where the minute someone talks to you, you just go like “Yep, I like him.” But it’s that like when you just want something with no particular reason – you know, like shoes on a huge discount. It’s not that you need them, but your outfits will look better if you have them. Yep, that sort of liking.
Then again, as we’ve recently seen I’m in no shape to be in a relationship and I’ve been rocking the boat for a bit too long. So a 2020 resolution was: “Stay away from guys until you’re sure what you want.”
Because we have my ex, who didn’t break my heart, but I was really indifferent about him. And I am not a person to be indifferent about anything! And I’m just over the whole relationship thing. In theory, ofc.
I want a relationship, yet I’m not ready. I run away from commitment, the way a drug addict runs away from rehab. Truth man. There was this show, where one of the main characters was a rich, successful woman, which all she thinks about was business and doesn’t really know how to relationship and she had a chance with this guy and she wanted to abort mission. Yep, that’s me. Whenever something starts getting serious, I either run away from it, or sabotage it.
Why do I say this? Here’s why:
Exhibit A: My last serious relationship was probs over 3 years ago (unfortunately being a cute dog means having a memory like one a.k.a. having a super sh*tty memory. ) and I didn’t do anything for about 2 years. And then I started doing it all, till my ex showed up and showed me that yes, loud annoying, dominant, power-hungry men exist and they want me. Problem is, I didn’t want them and wanted to break up with him in the first week of seeing him.
Exhibit B: Discount shoes NY guy, afore mentioned. Yep, absolutely fun, but that was all that it was. Fun. Ofc he has potential, but I’m not in that position, neither was he. Plus it all started as a return of karma, or poetic justice: warning, drama ahead. get ya popcorn ready. or better yet don’t.
So, I said I liked this guy from the moment I first talked to him. Why? Because he was just humorous and funny, then he became hella smart, or better yet I discovered he was hella smart.
And we watched the fireworks together, just us two. And I had a feeling that he likes me back. We were talking all of the night. He looked me in the eyes and I knew I was wanted. I was desired.
You know that amazing feeling when you put on a really sexy dress and all eyes are on you? And you can feel the power of seduction flowing through your veins. Several moments he made me feel that very deeply. And it was power in my eyes, as always. Because it’s what I am always after – validation and power. I have a constant need to feel powerful and in control of things.
Then we went to Jazz, and I’m told that one ex-good friend of mine will be there, to which I reacted pretty okay. I’m not the kind of person who holds grudges, unlike her.
She said hi to him, while he was being super close to me and ignored me. I was like “fine b*tch.”
After that me and him laughed a lot. Talked a lot. Became super close. And he said he was going to be honest with me. To which my reply was like: “What’s up?” and he said he made out with her two nights ago. With my ex-friend.
Even from the start I didn’t want anything with him. Because I don’t know what I want in my love life, because I’m confused and because I take every single man for granted, which is not fair. And I can be an evil b*tch who has no respect for someone’s feelings.
My past taught me that being the nice little rag will always get walked on. I wasn’t ready to be that rag. All the pain and suffering from the years culminated in, well a heartless woman, who knows only of power and not love. It hurt way too much, however, becoming a cynical little c*nt, was not the best compromise, either.
And there was that tingly feeling in a girl’s head when you know a guy is going to make a move on you. And he did. And I respectfully declined. Because in my head I knew I couldn’t have her leftovers, I deserved more.
Moments later, I’m talking to this acquaintance, who tells me the story how the two girls (she and ex friend) were besties and she (ex friend) decided to tell her 5 months later that she f*cked her ex boyfriend.
On the other hand, my reason for ending hanging out with her is pretty similar. It was because after I yapped about a guy I liked for about 6 months, she decided to tell me she made out with him while I was talking about him. And there was a time where the guy called me after not being able to reach her and me and him hung out. At that point I was furious. I ain’t a leftover, I’m a meal and no man will treat me like less. I ain’t a snack, I’m a d*mn 16 course meal.
And then a flick of a switch happened. I like discount shoe guy. I liked his humor, I liked his character, the way his stupid hair won’t stay in place, the way he smiled and how he knew exactly what I was talking about and his honesty. He had this look in his eyes, dominant, yet subtle. He was very soft. Even his eyes were. They were telling stories only like a decisive man’s eyes did. The only reason stopping me was breaking my New Year’s resolution.
I had to make her feel poetic justice. I knew she still likes him. I could see it in her eyes. I’m no God, but at that point I felt like I could bring her pain the way she did to me and to my acquaintance. I felt like she deserve it. Then later I found out she had a crush on him from high school. The pleasure from my decision was even greater.
So, he tried kissing me again. I returned his kiss. It felt good. I’m not huge on vengeance, but poetic justice or karma if you will, is served cold.
And then I kissed him again because, deep down in my sh*tty-completely-sober-self I liked him. And we kissed some more. I think we kissed the night away. My thirst for poetic justice and frankly my thirst for him, was satisfied.
And then we danced. I had him. I had won for the night. And we all know I love winning.
The party was over, he was walking me over to my house, when we had the idea of sitting on a rooftop. for 2 hours. in the cold. it was awesome. He opened up, so did I. We kissed some more in the hood of his hat where the darkness could hide me from myself. Because at the end, I broke my own promise.
His hood was a place where I can hide from my principles and my then-pounding-overthinking-head which decided to lit up like a Christmas tree from red flags. But as I told him, no part of it felt wrong. None of it. His face and body were a place where sober-thought Soph could forever hide and never face her fears. Never facing the fact that she failed herself, that she, once more had the need of attention and men. One she promised to let go of
She looked him in the eyes and she knew the same thing I did – discount shoe guy, was freaking awesome. So was I. We were both awesome. Thing is, I couldn’t. Neither could he. We both had our reasons for whatever we did.
It started as poetic justice, it ended in a romance gone cold.
Because we knew the expiration date is coming close.
I was like a snake twisting around his body. I was poisoning him with my truths, yet he was poisoning me with the platonic reality of the situation. It was a fact – I was leaving. He doesn’t do long distance. Neither do I. I kissed him out of spite. I continued kissing him because I didn’t know any better.
It was another of my revolutions. It was a rebellion towards my 3-years-ago ex. It was a composition of accumulated feelings for another person. It was rage. It was pain. And I didn’t want to admit it. I still don’t.
I didn’t want to admit that everything I’ve done in the past two years was a revolution, a mere rebellion, a mutiny if you will, towards my ex, who btw, not only has 0 interest in me, but hates my guts. And I haven’t gotten over him, no matter how much I say I have.
How I know I haven’t gotten over him? Well, because in every guy, who doesn’t work out I convince myself that no man can satisfy my needs. I got really into my perverse fantasy, that unfortunately it became a reality. I started believing that no man will ever be that kind, that loving, that nice. Yet deep inside, we would’ve never worked out. He was waay too slow and I was waay too fast. I was fire – I could burn your soul if I want to. I can convince you in any reality I wanted.
I was like a vile snake inserting bits of myself into his body. For a while I made him addicted. And he broke it because it was pure venom. I let my venom fill his soul, to the breaking point, to the time where he couldn’t handle who I was. It was drugs. It was just a quick fix, before the rose-colored glasses could fall from our heads and in Bojack Horseman words: when the rose colored glasses fell, all the flags just turned red, once again.
Truth is, the stupid red flags never go away and the rose glasses turned gray forever.
And every single time I see a picture of him, I die inside a little bit more. I shake from fear that once more that pain will surround my body and the ache, of yet another love that goes by, will once more return filling me with hopelessness.
And the only thing worse than having hope, is being hopeless.
and there it goes. another post. another revelation. just another sequence of words typed out. I guess it never ends. You know what I’m talking about. And if you don’t, I’m happy you don’t. In this case, ignorance is bliss.