♡ the life of a 25 year old hopeless romantic ♡





"This song is talking to the person you haven't even met yet. Maybe they're rolling around in the hay with someone else, but they're not as good as you're gonna be. You just have to wait your turn. He's out there, she's out there. They're just learning what to contrast you against."






Questions? Concerns? Random observations?
Leave me a message here, or email me here. ♥






a tenth. a first. and a goodbye.}
Sunday, December 2, 2018 | 9:19 PM | 2Comment




To my beloved Internet,

It has been long. Much too long. How I've missed you.

I have started and stopped several entries before this one. I never posted them because they didn't feel quite right. And just as well, I've been so swamped with my fiction writing this year (a revision on one of my novels that resulted in axing 50k words from it, work on another novel I started in '16, and finishing a whole novella!) that I felt like I couldn't dedicate enough time to writing a nice update for you all.

Also, at some point, there was so much happening that I didn't feel like I could adequately write about it all. But, as always, there is the ever-famous bulletpoint entry. So let me sum it up for you:


  • In March of this year, I entered my 25th year around the sun. Many confusing, exciting things have happened in my 25th year, but I've enjoyed 25. 25 is nice, and so far, much nicer than being 24.
  • In May of this year, this blog turned 10 years old. An entire decade of being your ridiculous, overly-sensitive, one-and-only Hopeless Romantic.
  • I continued working at my job, and I continued loving it, as well as being able to experience wonderful opportunities for my resume, as well as wonderful life experiences.
  • I started going to the movies by myself, and it turned into one of my favorite new hobbies. Turns out I'm a bit of a movie junkie, and I enjoy watching them the most when I'm alone, but with a group of other movie junkies who watch movies the same way I do--silently. Ahh, sweet silence.
  • I started seeing someone, who then became my very first boyfriend.


Huh. Sooo...where to begin?

Kidding. I know you guys are DYING to hear me dish on this guy who became my first ever boyfriend. Me. Hopeless Romantic, in the year of 2018, AND A FIRST BOYFRIEND

FINALLY.










Now, before you all celebrate, let me stop you right there: it's not Brennan. And it didn't end well.

But, well, seeing as he was my first boyfriend, and most people have their first boyfriend/girlfriend in like...middle school, sometimes high school? Yeah. Usually that does not work out so well. And in this case, it didn't.

But let me start at the beginning. Let's call him Jon.

Now, after the whole Brennan ordeal of late last year, I ended up confronting him. I told him up front that I had felt taken advantage of, and used, and that it didn't fly with me. I told him I take my own feelings very seriously, and that I need someone who takes me seriously as well. I told him that I'll be his friend, but if he can't handle being JUST straight-forward, platonic friends, then he needed to stay away from me.

He ended up responding with this whole rant about how sorry he was for treating me that way, and how he didn't even know what he wanted or what he was doing with his life, and honestly it was pretty sad. It was through this that I realized how hard this breakup of his had been on him, way more than he had initially made it seem.

Frankly, after all of that, it put me off of Brennan for good, and I left him alone. Aside from him sending me Merry Christmas and Happy New Year texts, we mostly stopped speaking--which, after the way he had treated me, I was glad for. Immediately following, I signed up for Bumble, wanting to move on ASAP.

Nothing came of Bumble for several weeks afterward. For a little bit, I was talking to this guy from there who Super Liked me, who ended up coming on WAY TOO STRONG and made me super uncomfortable 95% of the time. 

Nothing came of it for months, and I was feeling so weary of the whole dating scene that I was planning on deleting the app.

But when I sat down to delete my account in June, I decided I might take one last swipe-through, just in case. 

So I was swiping. Swiping, and swiping, and swiping. Losing my faith in humanity and swiping. Feeling my soul die and swiping.

Then finally, miracle of miracles, I find a guy's profile that interests me. Just to see, I swipe right. We immediately match.

The guy? Jon.

I send the opening message, telling him he's handsome and making a comment about something he'd written on his profile. He immediately messages back, super friendly, we talk for a bit. He asks me out to a movie for the next weekend, I say yes. Success.










Now, when we meet in person for the first time, it's a little weird. He's kind of quiet, he's obviously very nervous. I was nervous too, but after seeing him, he was much more nervous than I was. I try my best to be friendly to make him feel at ease, and we go in for the movie.

His laughter during the movie is high-pitched and it alarms me, but it's kind of hilarious. The unashamed, loud way that he laughs is disarming, and shows me that he doesn't care what others think. It warms me to him.

After the movie, I ask if he would like to get coffee at my favorite cafe by the movie theater that plays k-pop videos. He says yes.

He pays for my coffee, and we get to know each other a bit. He seems to have trouble looking directly at me, but he still seems nervous, so I give him the benefit of the doubt. (I found out later that he spent our entire first date absolutely terrified. Poor guy.) He lived in Japan for much of his adolescent years, but he says he likes it in America better. He complains about the trains in Japan, and it endears me to him. He lived a whole life growing up that I could never even imagine, and I want to know more.









So I say yes to date two, brunch at a hole-in-the-wall place downtown. He's a bit warmer this time, more comfortable. We talk about all our favorite movies, and our favorite music. I notice the tattoo on his forearm: the solar system. I love space. And now I like him even more.

Date three: Watching Harry Potter movies at his place. I was hesitant about going over to his apartment--I had never been to a man's apartment before. But I said yes, trying to take a step outside of my comfort zone.

He sensed that I was uncomfortable, and as we watched Chamber of Secrets, he only holds my hand. Fingers laced. I'm on cloud nine.






After date 5--a day trip to the mall, where he bought some things for me as a gift--when we watched a Japanese reality show on Netflix, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I cried, and I said yes. And when we left his place a couple of hours later so that he could drive me home, there was a double rainbow across the sky.

It felt like a sign. A wonderful gift just for me, from the universe.

That day made me so happy. It was wonderful, now knowing that these things could happen to me. I thought I was defective. I thought something was wrong with me. I thought I was the only one who would never experience that kind of happiness.

I now know that it's possible.






Unfortunately, after that, things steadily went downhill.

We still did fun things. We went to movies, talked on the phone, went out to eat, sat in his car for hours just talking and watching funny videos on each other's phones. Those parts were great. Those were the things I had always wanted, and never thought I deserved. 

I'll cherish those firsts for a long time. Maybe forever.

But sometimes he would ignore my boundaries--my personal boundaries as well as my relationship boundaries. At first I thought it was a mistake, and made excuses for him. I would restate them again and again, reminding him. He would say 'okay' and nod like he understood, and then he would bulldoze past them all over again. This happened so many times that it felt like I was losing my mind.

It happened so many times that when he told me that he loved me, it didn't feel like he meant it.

He said 'I love you' to me after 1 month of being official, after changing our relationship statuses on Facebook.

He said it right after I told him, repeatedly, that I wasn't ready for sex, and tried to force me to do it anyway.

I didn't say it back, Internet. Because the moment he said this to me, after the way he had treated me before in that confusing, unsettling moment, I knew I didn't love him.

Because I could never love someone who wouldn't treat me with the utmost respect. I thought he respected me--he opened doors for me, held hands with me in public, drove me home, and he told me he respected me. I thought that was enough. 

But other times he would shove his tongue down my throat like he was getting paid $200 a minute to do it. Other times, when I told him I was having a bad depression or anxiety day, he would ignore my need for space. And he would whine and guilt trip me when I said I wasn't ready to sleep with him. And when he wasn't whining and guilting me, he was groping me. 

At first it just began to annoy me. Then it began to anger and sicken me. We even began fighting about it. One of the last times I called him out on it, I got really angry. I thought we had settled this discussion the time before, and I was tired of feeling unheard. He swore up and down that he wouldn't do it again, and that he was sorry, and that he'd do better. He blamed his stress on it, and that he didn't mean to upset me. Little did he know, that final time we fought over it, I decided it would be the last time.

A lack of respect is not love.

We spent so much time angsting over this in the end that he barely know who I was.

Maybe Jon truly did love me, or who he wanted me to be. Maybe he still does. Or maybe he just said it so I'd sleep with him.

Either way, my mental health was suffering. The moment I realized I wasn't happy anymore, I wanted out. I needed to end it.






The worst part was that he was away on a trip and wouldn't be back for weeks. And I'm not some asshole who breaks up with someone over the phone. So for weeks, I stewed in misery, waiting for him to return from his trip so I could break it off.

I felt terrible about it. I knew that it would be awful for him to be dumped right after returning from a trip. But I also knew it would be worse, nay, cowardly to dump him over phone call or text while he was gone. It would've been downright cruel. So I did what I had to do.

He had told me once that one of his exes had dumped him over text, out of the blue, without even saying why. So I did the opposite of that.

When he returned from his trip, we went out. In person, sitting outside at a cafe, I told him exactly why I was breaking up with him. And I cried more than I thought I would, though admittedly I have gotten over it pretty fast, 3 months later.

Aside from the boundaries issue (which is unacceptable) and the not listening thing (he was the WORST LISTENER.), what it truly came down to was incompatibility.

He needs someone who wants to screw like bunnies all the time, and who doesn't mind someone who's a bit clingy.

I need someone who listens to me, and who respects me, first of all. But most of all, I want someone that I love.

Because when it came down to it, Jon was not right for me in several ways. I liked how attentive he was in the beginning, how sweet and thoughtful he was. But it changed so quickly, and he showed this other side of him, which I couldn't stand so much that he became unattractive to me. He became so unattractive to me that I knew I could never, under any circumstances, fall in love with him.

I need someone that I love.

And I know what love feels like because I have loved someone before.








With Ricky Bobby, I saw all of his flaws. I knew who he was, and what all of his weaknesses were. None of them mattered. Because down to my very soul, I loved him

I loved him. And as I said three years ago, I may always love him.

I swore I would never blog about him again. But on this tenth year of this blog, I can't help but bring it all back to the knucklehead that made me start this whole thing in the first place.

For years, I've wondered. Wondered if I'll even love someone else.

Thanks to Jon, I know I can.

For a little while, I thought I was on my way to loving Jon. Perhaps I was close. Before that whole incompatibility thing reared its ugly head.

And because of him, despite how it ended, I know now that someone can love me. That I'm not just this unloveable sad sack of a human, the one who cried herself to sleep in high school, thinking no one could ever love her.

I know I can be loved. I know now.









How long have you known me, Internet?

Have you been with me for all TEN years? In that case, wow. Thanks for sticking around.

Has it been a shorter time than that? Even then, wow. Thanks for being an anonymous friend in this lonely wide world.

For ten years, this blog was my sanctuary. It's been the place where I air my deepest thoughts, as loudly and as boldly as I want. I spent my formative years pouring my soul into the words on this diary, where strangers could either read them and identify, or read and be entertained.

I owe so much to this little space right here. This little corner of the Internet has meant the world.

But I'm sure that many of you, if there are much of you left, have noticed my increased absence in recent years. I would be surprised if anyone was reading this right now, in fact.

It's not that I've lost the drive to write. It's that I've channeled all of my energy and all of my soul into my fictional works. The more I gave to my characters, the less concerned I was about my love life, and the less self-absorbed I was.

And the more I've poured into my stories, the less energy I had for dissecting my own life and spreading it into words on the Internet, for the whole world to see.

My stories have grown into books. Books, plural. That I want to publish one day. And most of all, this year, I have been seeking a literary agent to represent my work. To find a publishing house so that those words might become real books one day.

This blog has been so much of my heart for so long.

And that's why I'm turning it into what I love most in this world: a book.









Of course, it won't be a memoir. I'll rearrange some things, pick better changed names, make some things more interesting (i.e.: FICTIONAL.). And of course, give it a happy ending, as my favorite kind of fiction deserves.

As for this blog, and for you all, I wish I could give you a happy ending.

I wish I could've come back with a bombastic, final blog entry in the form of AND THEN I FELL MADLY IN LOVE WITH JON AND HE PROPOSED TO ME AND WE GOT MARRIED AND BOUGHT A HOUSE AND NOW WE'RE HAPPILY EVER AFTER THE END.

God, I wish I could've. More than anything.

But the sad fact of real life is that it's not as interesting as books. Things don't normally get happy endings. If they get endings at all, a lot of times they're anticlimactic and full of loose ends. Sometimes the endings are sad and tragic.

I think if I had eventually abandoned this blog, just up and left it without another word, that would've been the tragic ending.

So I thought: if I give this an ending, let it be like most of life: anticlimactic, same as always, and maybe a little boring. (Aside from me finally filling you in on that first boyfriend thing, months later.)

Because God forbid, Internet, that I end this epic love story with you with a tragedy.

To those left out there who have read my words, read my life, and have stuck with me, this is where we say our goodbyes. I've always been terrible at goodbyes.

This ride has been wonderful. And I wouldn't have wanted to spend it anywhere else. I may not have found love in Jon, or in anyone after Ricky Bobby (so far), but I sure found it in myself, and in you.







When I finish this book loosely based upon this hopeless romance life of mine, I'll likely delete this blog from the face of the websphere. I hope that enough of you see this final entry before I do, but don't worry, that may be awhile. (But just in case, if you wish to download an archive of my entries, or copy-and-paste or screenshot them, or what have you, I would do it ASAP.)

If 'The Life of a Hopeless Romantic' (title pending) appears on the YA shelves of a bookstore one day, I hope that some of you might recognize me there and pick me up to live on your bookshelves, so that you won't forget me.

Because I certainly won't forget any of you.

I love you. Adieu. The end.

And, for one last time: Happy Holidays, and happy New Year. Take care of yourselves, Internet. May your lives be full of love. And show love to one another, even if it's hard to find for yourself.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Forever,
Your Hopeless Romantic


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halloween xxii: the return of jacob (the nightmare).}
Monday, October 24, 2016 | 9:29 PM | 2Comment



Internet. I'm back. And boy, do I have an update for you.

Let's just say that this update is up there right next to Phil for 'WTF'ness.

Gather 'round, kids. LET'S GET SPOOKY.



So, needless to say, when I had written my last entry about Jacob, I was 1000% done with him.

But, here's the thing that didn't make it into the last entry: A few weeks after we'd stopped talking, something happened. Now, I had made the unfortunate decision not to unfollow him on Instagram. Truth be told, I don't think I wanted to give up looking at his selfies. He was still really hot, unfortunately.

But he hadn't unfollowed me either (unlike Amad--dude unfollowed me some time after he had moved. I mean, I get it, but ouch.), so I didn't see the harm in it really. And it's not like I ever liked his pictures anymore anyway--but this bad decision would come back to haunt me. I'll get back to that in a sec.

So what happened was, because of Instagram's handy (read: horrible) function that shows you whatever activity those you follow do on the app, from likes to comments, I saw something I definitely hadn't wanted to see, even if I were purposely looking for it.

Lo and behold, there Jacob was, very publicly wooing another Instagram girl with tons of followers.

It was the whole nine yards: likes, heart emojis and heart EYE emojis along with thirsty comments on all her selfies, everything. I went to her feed to look at her pics.

She was gorgeous, truly. I wasn't salty towards her about it. Jacob was the one coming at her full force with super concentrated interest as he had done with me, which was what had drawn me to him in the first place. I thought it was weird that he was pursing her so shamelessly, firstly because she lived 7 states away. Really, though, she was super out of his league. And she seemed to know this too, considering she barely responded to any of his borderline creepy comments.

Anyway, I mean, not to be dramatic, but after this, figuratively he was pretty much dead to me. He did not exist to me anymore, basically.



So after this happened I moved on with my life, and I didn't give him another thought.

That is, not until two weeks ago. Hoo, boy.

So the day before The Incident, I'd had an eventful day in which I'd worn a really cute outfit. Of course I documented it with some cute selfies, because duh. And I felt pretty good about those pictures, too. All my friends liked them, and all was good.

Until the next morning.

The next morning, not only do I wake to unpleasantly find that Shark Week had come almost an entire week early, but it got worse. I check my phone after taking some OTC painkillers, and wow, look at that!

An Instagram DM from Jacob sent at three o'clock in the morning.

Yep, Internet. Jacob slid into my DMs.

Just the sight of the notification on my phone is enough to send me into a blind rage. Jacob had the audacity to slide into my DMs after 4 months of not speaking? Literally right after I posted some cute selfies? What??? WHAT?!?!? WAS HE FOR REAL?????

I was OUTRAGED. What could make him possibly think I wanted to speak to him again?

After calming down a little bit, I finally got the courage to open up the message. And then my rage lit up all over again.

What do I see first? A...picture of a flower.

Let me reiterate, Internet.

A.

Picture.

Of.

A.

Flower.

That.

Was.

My.

Favorite.

Color.

In.

His.

Hand.

Ha.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA



Picture that I was laughing in hysterical, manic fury, just like Nic Cage up there. Because that's what happened.

A picture of a flower? Really? Really?

That was the best he had? The best he had for blowing me off the way that he did? The best he had for the way he had disrespected me and then lied right to my face afterwards?

A PICTURE. OF A FLOWER.

There was more to the message, you guys. But it's been nearly two full weeks since this happened and I still can't believe the audacity of that PICTURE.

I mean..........at least it wasn't a d*ck pic, right? That's really the only worst thing I can think of that could've happened instead. But still. Wow.

So after the picture of a flower, he sent me this long paragraph which I will paraphrase for the sake of ease:

"Hey Sarah! So, it's been a while. I know we haven't talked in a while, but I kind of went through some stuff over the summer. I was hoping that we could pick things back up where they were before. I think you're an amazing person, and I'd love it if we could hang out sometime soon. *winking emoji*"

Yeah...........yeah.

Yeah.



He went there. I mean he really went there.

You know what's HILARIOUS, Internet? I had actually predicted this happening.

The moment I had seen Jacob pursuing that Instagram girl, I knew she would reject him hard and he'd come crawling back to me. I told all of my friends as such. And look what happened. Exactly what I said.

So now we have the next phase of the story: my reaction.

All of my friends and I had a good laugh over all of this. Then, they helped me deal with it. The first solution we decided on was to simply ignore him and leave his message on read.

I had so much I wanted to say. I wanted to curse him out, call him every name in the book. Send him insulting ironic memes. I WANTED TO DO IT ALL. But as one of my friends so artfully pointed out, sometimes having your sincerity ignored is the biggest punch in the face of all. (After all, I would really know about that, wouldn't I?)

So I ignored him. And the rest of that day, the situation seemed to have ended. But no. Ohhhh no. The fuckery was just beginning.

The next day when I wake up, I have another Instagram DM notification from none other than Jacob again.

What did it say? Just a lone heart emoji. The red one.



Okay. Weird. Who sends someone a heart emoji to someone ignoring them? This guy, apparently.

Time for another solution, my friend and I decided. It was time to be petty. It was time for a subpost.

Now, usually I'd say I'm above these tactics. Subposts are immature, for sure. But I had to get this guy off my back, and ignoring him clearly wasn't cutting it.

After I had opened up the heart emoji DM, just to get rid of the notification really, I got another message half an hour later. This one was even creepier.

"I'm serious, you know!"

Wow. Ominous. I don't know if it was because of his insistence, or the slightly pushy tone of his 3rd consecutive DM, but at this point I was seriously getting uncomfortable.

Also at this point, I was SO glad I hadn't told Jacob where I lived.

Luke was the one who had driven me home, and to this day to me remains a model example of Guys Who Are Dateable (even if I didn't have feelings for him myself, I still seriously respect how he treated me before, during, and after our date. Just a good guy all around. He'll make some girl out there super happy).

Thankfully I had gotten rides to and from the Starbucks Jacob and I had met at. And I'm so glad that I had insisted on getting my own ride, because Jacob had even offered to pick me up from my house and drive me home. I'm so glad my own carefulness paid off.

Internet, without a doubt, if Jacob had known where my house was, he would've showed up here. 100% he would have. And when I realized this, I was even more creeped out. (Actually, that night, I had a nightmare where he showed up at my front door. No joke.)


(Mike? Is that you? Are you actually Jacob?)

So I finally hurried up and chose a suitably shady meme to post to my Instagram where he could see, complete with Queen Bey Lemonade lyrics for the caption, because of course.

But literally AS I WAS GETTING READY TO POST IT, he messaged me another heart emoji. THE THIRD ONE. Okay! Really freaked out now! Supremely freaked out!

I post the damn meme before he can send me anything else. All my friends like it, fully supporting my call out of this utter creep. And then...crickets. Finally, the DMs end. For a few hours there's peace.

And then, hours later, he likes it. HE LIKED THE SHADY POST ABOUT HIM.

I'm just thinking ok, it must be sarcastic. It must mean he knows it's about him and now he's going to leave me alone. I go to his page and unfollow him. That's obvious enough, right? He'll understand that, and it'll be the end of it for good.

Right? RIGHT???

Haha. Nope.

The next day, I post another random, unrelated picture. He likes it.


I don't know if he was just too daft to get that I was rejecting him, or if he was choosing to ignore it altogether to continue to try to woo me again, but enough was enough.

Alright, I decide. That's it. No more of this. I block him. And finally, FINALLY, that is the end of things.

I'M FREE.

This whole thing was so absurd. This was 'Phil texting me on Thanksgiving Day for the first time in 6 months to tell me that he's in love with me and then chickening out of it 30 minutes later' LEVELS OF ABSURD. And I didn't think anything could match that!! (7 years later and that whole thing still pisses me off.)

Not only was this laughable, and outrageous, and creepy, and transparent, and a whole bunch of other things. But man...it's just plain sad.

I can't believe I thought Jacob was hot. I can't believe I was ever attracted to him. On his Instagram bio, he said he's 'Forever Single'. Um. Gee. I wonder how.

I mean, I've always been single too. And it wasn't always by choice, but it sure as hell is by choice now that I've been out in the dating world and gaped in horror at my choices. (Exaggeration, but you get me.) But Jacob...he's desperate. He's a 26 year old man and he acts this way with women. Lusts after them when he's lonely like they're objects. Like a teenaged boy. And it's pathetic. Truly pathetic.

Gross. Grooooooss. I can't believe I ever compared him to Andy Sixx. What an insult.

Anyway. So yeah, Internet. There it was. My creepy true Halloween story. Did it spook you? Yeah? Me too.

But it looks like the nightmare is over for good now.


As for my actual Halloween plans this year, it looks like I may be marathoning creepy movies with one of my baby cousins (who turned 15 this year...wtf? Wasn't she 12 like two seconds ago?) on All Hallows Eve. Still don't know what my costume's gonna be, though.

Maybe I'll go as an old brief flame raising from the dead to show up unprovoked, sliding into your DMs. Ooooh. Scary.

And for my plans after Halloween, I plan on participating in NaNoWriMo again this year, as well as diving headfirst into Xmas movies and Xmas music to fully avoid the rest of this hell-on-Earth election.

Ugh. Can't wait.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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boy, bye. (more like 'boys'.)}
Saturday, July 16, 2016 | 9:07 PM | 0Comment



Internet. Here it is. Explanations and updates.

Basically, let's cut to the chase: 
1. Decent first kisses with someone doesn't guarantee a thing. 
And 2. Being super freaking crazy attracted to someone doesn't make them less of an asshole.

Let's start with number 1. Luke.

I wanna make this very clear: Things were going great at first. Truly. We had great conversations, we got along fantastically. Our kiss was (though I have no frame of reference) very nice. I'm super happy with the fact that my first kiss ever was such a sweet, pleasant memory. (Especially after waiting so damn long for it to happen.) And he was really good at touching my face and smoothing my hair the way it turns out I reaaaaally like. (Like, really really really.)



But...here's the thing. Things kinda just...dwindled afterwards. We had actually originally planned for a 2nd date the same weekend I met Jacob, but Luke's dog fell really ill and ended up needing surgery, so he needed to take care of him. I completely understood, and I also felt horrible for his puppy and wished him a fast recovery.

During that whole thing, I texted him a lot less and gave him space, considering he was having a hard time. And so, just before that time of less talking, I matched with Jacob on Tinder. (More on him soon after this, promise.)

We talked. And the more I talked to Jacob, the more interest I had in him, and the less interested I was in Luke. Being really, truly honest here. And yes, I felt guilty about losing interest in Luke, especially since the only reason we had cancelled our date at the movies was because of his poor doggy.

But to be fair, I didn't really have any feelings for Luke. I tried to, I really did. I had nice kiss feelings, and wow-we-have-a-lot-in-common feelings, but nothing beyond that. It was like Brennan all over again (minus the kiss). That was why I was going to give a 2nd date a shot for the very first time--to see if there was potential for any feelings at all to develop. But after that 2nd date was cancelled, it was never rescheduled. So, really, there was no reason for me to feel guilty anyway, seeing as he'd likely changed his mind too.



No harm, no foul. It just didn't work out. But Luke gave me a pleasant 'first kiss' memory, and he never treated me badly. I'll always appreciate that.

So long, Luke. Good luck to ya.

Now onto number 2: Jacob. Ugh. Here we go.

Like I said, me and Jacob started talking sometime after my first date with Luke, and we set up a date for the day Luke and I had originally planned to go out.

I hadn't expected much from Jacob, truthfully--our conversations over text were boring and kinda shallow. He could decently hold a conversation over text, though (no one-word answers) so I figured it couldn't hurt to meet him.

I met him in the same Starbucks I'd met Luke at, and...well. Let's just say I'd greatly underestimated how attracted I would be to him. By liiike, a LOT.

I was GOBSMACKED by how attractive Jacob was. Holy freakin' hell. Remember Andy Sixx? Yeah. THAT hot. (Yup. I can still admit this now, though things between us imploded and rained down upon the earth in flaming pieces. But more on that soon.)
I didn't think the alt/scene look was still A Thing, but apparently it is. Or maybe it's coming back. And as it turns out, I still think it's hot as hell. And the whole thing--long hair, tight pants, and tonnnnnnns of tattoos, yeah. He pulls it off.  And inner 16 year old me couldn't believe someone this super fucking hot wanted to go on a date with ME. My mind was blown.


(^Andy 'The god' Sixx. Just wanted an excuse to post a pic of him tbh.)

(Also, I didn't mention this: before we even met, he'd also asked me if I wanted to go see Suicide Squad...which at the time, wasn't coming out for 2 and a half months. Dude was so excited to date me he wanted to schedule dates almost 3 months in advance. Sheesh. Slow your roll, man.)

He was hot in his pictures, too, but honestly I'd thought they were maybe edited. When we first matched, I'd actually shown all of my friends his pictures, because I was positive that it was a fake profile and that someone was Catfishing me.

In person, I was positively SHAKEN by how hot he was. I kept my composure pretty well, I think, but geez Louise. I wasn't ready.


And that is how my last update came to be--cryptic and deep.

One time meeting this guy, and my immediate attraction to him had me thinking that I'd finally found someone I genuinely wanted to date, for the first time in freakin' years. I hadn't been immediately attracted to someone like that since Kenneth--and even crazier, we had a great time at Starbucks. We got along great, conversation was fun and easy.

That's where that RB comparison came from--I hadn't felt that way since him. And we had a lot in common, too: our love of comic books, Japan, and the fact that both of us were in online school in high school. YES INTERNET. HE WAS IN ONLINE SCHOOL TOO. That HAD to mean something, right?! That had to mean it was fate!!

...So, understandably, I got ahead of myself.

So that brings us to where this went on a flaming fat rocket to the seventh layer of Hell.

Jacob and I had planned to go the movies the very next weekend (suggested by me...I'm not great at date ideas, okay?), and once again this would've been my first 2nd date ever. He was enthusiastic about the idea and immediately said yes.

We hadn't planned out the finer details of everything yet, and conversation over the week was light and not as often, which I figured was normal. But then the day before our date came, so I texted him to schedule out the final stuff--what movie we were seeing, what time would be best for both of us, etc.

And...no reply.

Hours later, I try to text him a second time, thinking he just hadn't seen my first one. And...still nothing. Zip. Zero.

Since I had been through this same song and dance earlier this year with Amad, I knew exactly what was going on. I was being blown off. AGAIN.



I waited 4 more hours. Still no response. By now I'm really getting agitated. In my annoyance, I decide to open Instagram and scroll through it to calm down. Before I start scrolling down my timeline, as always, I check my activity feed to see who else is on Instagram.

And lo and behold, who do I see?

Yep. Jacob.

But he is not just on Instagram, which means that he was on his phone and had been for a while, he was liking girls' pictures. But not just any girls. Lingerie models. And nude models. By the droves. He was liking so many of them, and multiple pictures from each account, that now that I think about it, I'm convinced he was trying to get their attention so they would follow him back.

Hah. HAH. HAHAHA.

I exploded, y'all. On the inside, of course. Not on the outside. But I EXPLODED.

Not only was I being blown off by him, the night before our daytime date, but I was being ignored in favor of lingerie and nude models, with hundreds of thousands of followers, that will literally never in his life give him the time of day.

OH. HELL. NO.

So from there, I already knew what I had to do. My weeklong crush on him was officially dead and buried.



I texted him one last time. Knowing I couldn't call out him blowing me off without sounding psycho, I settled on passive aggressive cordiality. The message I sent him went something like, "Alright, I understand. No hard feelings. Have a nice Sunday! *smiling emoji*" After sending it, I turned my phone off, left it across the room, and went to bed early.

The next morning my phone was flooded with Jacob's half-assed apology--yeah, the next morning--and, because he just couldn't bear to be real with me, it was sprinkled with a lie. He claimed that he'd been asleep when I'd texted him, when in fact I'd texted him THREE TIMES THROUGHOUT THE DAY, and during the last of the 3, I had visual proof of him not being asleep.



So now, not only had he blown me off my scheduling our date to j*ck off to girls he'll never ever meet, but now he'd also LIED TO ME.

Yup. Yup. I was so done. I was so done that you couldn't stick a fork in me if you tried--I was solid, burnt, ruined food levels of DONE.

Calmly, I replied, telling him that since he hadn't answered me, I'd assumed that he'd changed his mind and decided to make other plans. (Plans to wrap myself up in blankets and pillows and read a book for the entire day, that is.) I told him if he wanted to make plans some other time, we'd have to schedule it ahead of time, since I was busy working the next weekend.
Notice the lack of any specific mention of rescheduling. He certainly did. He asked if we could do something the weekend after, and all he got was a 'we'll see :)', which meant 'definitely no, never, not on your life.'

I immediately deleted his number. After 4 unreturned likes on Instagram, he's finally gotten the point and left me alone.

You blew it, Jacob. See ya never. Good luck on your valiant mission to make your Instagram The Instagram Account With The Most Amount of Selfies With Literally 60 Hashtags Underneath Each One.

Needless to say, I've been listening to Lemonade nonstop lately. Ahh. It's like therapy. Thanks, Queen B.



I was left so angry and annoyed by this entire ordeal that I decided to delete my Tinder account 2 weeks afterwards.

I was tired of being blown off by these guys like my attention and time meant nothing. Jacob's lying to me was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

So...that's the whole story, Internet.

I think I'm done with dating for a while again, guys. This last stint has left me exhausted and annoyed by how impossible dating seems to be. It's shown me that, even when I don't run away and act like a coward (like I did with Brennan), even when I'm totally honest, totally myself, and totally open minded, things usually still don't work out. That's just how it is.

I've had my fill for this year. The rest of 2016, I'll only be focused on me.

I'll be focused on me, my dog-sitting doggies, my writing (which I'm doing right now, as a matter of fact. Doing the same summer writing challenge that I did last year!), my books, and possibly my return to school in the fall. Sounds pretty great to me.



xo Hopeless Romantic

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the way it goes.}
Monday, April 4, 2016 | 7:22 PM | 0Comment


Hey, Internet. I have some updates for you, fresh outta the oven! And believe me, these updates are probably nothing like you were expecting.

SO, first off, and most importantly: MY BIRTHDAY. WOOOOO.

After a fun and happy, easy-going birthday, this Hopeless Romantic is now 23 years old.


(Above is the birthday cake of my wildest dreams.)

23. What? Wow. That's how old I am now? Wasn't I 17 exactly two seconds ago? What the hell, man. How did that happen?

But, yes. Long story short: birthday was great.

Full of lovely birthday wishes, family, italian food, wine, and red velvet cupcakes (which I'm eating right now!!). Not to mention two giant pink '2' and '3' helium balloons, which are amazingly still afloat and are directly to my left as I type. I also received a beautiful pink quilt which I had actually seen in a store a week prior and kept beating myself up afterwards for not having money with me when I saw it. (Thanks mom for sneaking and getting it for me.) That quilt is really gonna save my ass at night during the warm months, it'll be much less sweltering hot than my thick comforter.



Really, it was good that my birthday and the day after was so great. Because the 3 and a half days afterwards totally sucked.

The morning after my birthday I at least got to go see a movie I've been wanting to see, and so that was fun. Then, that evening, I got a migraine.

I took my migraine medicine, which has caffeine in it, resulting in me staying up until 3:45 in the morning. Then, 15 minutes after I finally went to sleep, my lovely sweet senior-aged pup had some gastrointestinal stress. Resulting: she shit all. over. my. bedroom floor.

Diarrhea everywhere. At 4 am.

So, lol. Yeah. Not so great.

After that happened, I proceeded to have severe allergies and sinus issues, which is currently still happening. NOT FUN.

But, hey. At least my birthday this year was great, and I have a positive memory of it! Soooo, moving onto less disgusting updates. (Sorry.)

Let's talk about what I know most of you are dying to hear about: Amad.



Hm. Where to start? Well, maybe I'll start with the fact that he hasn't moved yet!

Unexpected, right? Well, here's another unexpected tidbit: We haven't talked since February.

Hah...yeah. But not for lack of trying, on my part. Yep. That's right. I have texted him on two separate occasions since then, and guess what?

Nada. Nothing. Ignored. Ignored hard.

Incredibly, he's still been liking my Instagram pictures. But still can't respond to my texts. Amazing. And, you know what? I've gotten the sneaking suspicion that he really did get my text that time and really did just ignore me. Since he seems to be pretty damn good at doing that.

So...that's it, I guess. Game over.

Yeah, I mean, it's great and all that he hasn't moved yet, which I don't know the reason for, by the way. I was going to ask him why he hadn't moved yet one of the times I tried to reach out, but uh, yeah. Guess I'll never know. Guess it doesn't matter to me anymore, either.

He's made it clear he doesn't want to go out with me anymore, so I won't try to change his mind. You either like me, or you don't. That's not my problem, and it's not my job to try and convince someone else that I'm worthy of them. I already tried that once and suffered (R*cky B*bby in the 8th grade) and I have no intention of ever doing that again. I have more pride than that.

At first I was annoyed and confused. Now I'm just tired of whatever this was. I'm over it.

So long, Amad. Not sure why you decided to pull the disappearing act after being so into me, but I'll live.



I feel like I have done this little thing called moving on about a thousand times already. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it really sucks, and sometimes it's hard. But I have to do it, and so I'll keep doing it when I need to. As many times as it takes.

He wasn't what I thought (or hoped) he'd be. He really was the immature little asshole that I'd hoped he wasn't. He disappointed me. And that's alright. That happens. Sometimes that's just the way it goes. That's life.

So, as I move on, I'll continue to swipe on Tinder--mostly to the left, along with eye rolling and and heavy sighs.

Onto some other news: MY JOB.

Watching Sally in February turned out great, she was a sweet puppy. After that, I had a few more meetings with potential clients that didn't turn into a real sitting opportunity because of certain aspects not working out.

Also, a week after I watched Sally...I had one of my trademark clumsy moments.

I sprained my knee badly one night as I was killing a bug. Don't ask me how I did it, I still have no idea!! I've been wearing a brace on my knee for a month and a half, and have also been elevating and icing it consistently. I've had an ape-like hobble of a walk for quite a while now, but I think all of this treatment is finally paying off.

It still hurts, but it's better. Not nearly as bad as it was.

But obviously, it's set me back in terms of working. I've barely been able to walk, let alone play with a dog every day and deal with sweet little fur babies slamming into my knees even though they don't mean to but bless them those little darlings are CLUMSY. So I've been taking a hiatus lately to heal, so also no money lately. Sadface.

BUT. I just had a great meeting yesterday, and the deal was sealed immediately: I watch their sweet little pumpkin the whole first week of June. Woohoo!

And if my knee is still not 100% by then (but it probably will be) then I won't have to worry about aggravating my injury, because their little dog is so close to the ground and tiny that it won't even be a problem. Yay.



With a healing knee and healing pride, things are looking up once again, Internet.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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on the dangers of nostalgia.}
Tuesday, July 21, 2015 | 11:23 PM | 0Comment

So, Internet. Ricky Bobby.

It's been a little while since I posted my painfully honest, really humbling and terrifying letter.

Writing that letter, along with the totally raw post I made in January (where I basically finally admitted to myself and to you guys where my mental state was in high school when he moved back), honestly...it felt like ripping back open old wounds. It was that painful for me.

And yet, they were completely necessary. I don't know why it took me nearly 5 years to be able to do it, but I'm glad that I eventually arrived there. Late honesty is at least better than holding onto the lie.

In the months since writing it, I have very slowly began to feel better about all of these regrets. And even though in the end, I decided not to send the letter to him, just getting it there--out in existence, out of my brain--relieved some of the worries and upset about it.

So. These past few months, I've been going about my business. Taking things day by day, focusing on my health, writing my ass off (if you follow me on Twitter, you'll know what I mean).

This month, I've been preoccupied with writing a lot and also pre-friends'-wedding-jitters (why was I so nervous? It wasn't even my wedding! Sheesh!) So I had barely enough time to think about anything else.

But.

The day before Jazz's birthday, it was Ricky Bobby's birthday.

I got the notification for it, right there on Facebook. And to be honest, I already knew about it. I mean...of course I would remember his birthday.

After talking about it with one of my friends (the same friend that advised against me sending the letter), we decided an innocent birthday wall post couldn't hurt. Everyone does that, right? Even if you're not close to that person anymore, it's still nice to wish them happy birthday. I do that for some people I haven't even talked to in years. Some people I went to school with did that for me too, and I didn't find it strange or awkward, I actually thought it was nice.

So. After a small period of panic, typing, backspacing, typing, backspacing again, looking at his FB page and sweating profusely, and typing again, I finally decided to post on his wall.

It was small, unassuming, unimposing, polite. "happy birthday, ricky bobby! i hope you've been doing well."

That's all.

No, "happy birtHDAYI'M SORRY I WAS SUCH A BITCH TO YOU".

No, "happy birthday!!!! god I really miss you sometimes!!!! I've been thinking about you for months!!!!!!!! Sometimes I think about you for so long that I send myself into an absolutely miserable downward spiral!!!!!!!!!! Why the hell didn't I date you?!?! HOPE UR GOOD".

No, "happy bir--did you ever actually like me, at any point?? Or were you even interested in me that way??? Did I ruin my chances with you??? Did I make you hate me forever???? Do you not even give a single shit about me anymore???????"

Nope.

Even though I strongly want to say all of those things to him, it's hit me now that I may never will. And you know what? Maybe I'll just have to live with that. Maybe I wouldn't want to know the response to those things, anyway.

So, I'm sure you want to know how he responded.

He didn't.

Looking at Ricky Bobby's history with social media websites and how he uses them, this wasn't a surprise to me. No reply, not even a like.

It stung a little bit, but you know what? Maybe in a way, that was an answer to all of the questions that plagued my mind the past half a year.

Not responding to my mild attempt at social courtesy, to which other people would probably at least respond with a like(which says yes, I see your reaching out to me, and I appreciate it)...somehow, no response said more than a polite response would have ever said.

If he had even liked that I reached out to him, he would have responded in some way, right? So maybe he didn't like that wall post of mine. Maybe he didn't like that I was speaking to him for the first time in 4 years after blocking him, unblocking him and adding him as a friend again and acting like nothing ever happened. Completely understandable and justified that he would feel that way. It's not that I was even expecting a particularly warm response, either, after the way that I acted.

It's clear that my reaching out was unwelcome. And somehow, finding out this way is easier to take.

Imagine if I actually had sent that letter to him. Imagine the response that would have gotten.
To be truthful, if it had received no response at all, like this had, it would have been like a stab in an old scar for me. It would've felt like one gigantic, final, end-all-be-all rejection of my heart and everything that I felt for him, balled up and thrown in the trash like my letter probably would have been.

So, that's it now. It's time to stop. No more.

I had my regrets, worries, and fears, and for the most part, they've all been answered now. It's time I move on for real now. For good.

He'll become a part of my past that I stop revisiting, a Facebook friend I never talk to anymore, just keep them in my friend's list for the sake of knowing how they're doing. That's enough for me now, just knowing he's doing okay.

I need to stop revisiting him, need to stop trying to bring him back into my life when it's clear that he's not meant to be there anymore. And that's perfectly all right. That's what happens when you grow up.

Maybe Ricky Bobby was my first (unrequited) love. I created this entire blog that testifies to that very possibility.

People don't always get together with or stay together with their first loves, I'd say they rarely ever do. But people do get over their first loves. Maybe it takes them years and years and years, but they do eventually. Maybe they'll always have a teeny tiny piece of their heart. Maybe Ricky Bobby will always be unknowingly carrying around a tiny piece of my heart with him. That's okay.

And that doesn't mean I need to be with him. I never will be with him. And that's okay, too. I realize that now.

These last endless months of dangerous nostalgic feelings may have partly been so severe because, with the wedding of one of my closest friends, now more than ever I have had to face the fact that my life is different now.
I am not the same girl I was in high school, though I may feel that way sometimes. I've changed in so many ways, and the people I used to know have too. Their personalities, their wants, their needs, their entire lives. And so has mine.

The Ricky Bobby I used to know, the Ricky Bobby of my lovely, cherished memories, is gone now. Living his new life. Wanting different things than 8th grade and 11th grade Ricky Bobby wanted. And the 11th grade Sarah of his memories, if he ever stops to revisit them, is gone too.

It's time to live my new life, too. Without getting dragged back by nostalgia and all my memories. I can still cherish the memories, but I need to leave them in the past for good now. Where they belong.



One more thing I want to write down, before I stop blogging about Ricky Bobby for a very long time, possibly (and hopefully) forever, is this:

During these months of self inflicted, nostalgia fueled torment, I decided to revisit Ricky Bobby's old band in high school, the one he was lead singer of before he moved back to my state and they replaced him with another singer.

Well. Wouldn't you know it, Internet. They were signed to a major indie label, and they're becoming popular. Popular as in, SXSW performances two years in a row, touring worldwide, performance at a big music festival in New York this year with huge mainstream artists, interviews with Rolling Stone, along with raving Rolling Stone reviews, interviews in Interview mag, Nylon mag, performances on late night talk shows on TV--that popular.

Yeah. I KNOW. Crazy, right??

They're certainly quite the sensation (I can't name them, for the sake of protecting identities and all that), and the lead singer they replaced Ricky Bobby with is certainly talented, especially for his age. (Though he sounds just like a few other bluegrass/soul influenced rock vocalists of the same genre...just my opinion, though.) But when I was catching up on this band, upon visiting their Wikipedia page...I noticed something. You know that 'past members' section that a lot of bands have on their Wiki page, if they have any past members of the group? They had only one past member listed there, one of the original members that formed the group in high school. And no Ricky Bobby.

I also noticed that in their interviews, when they talked about the formation of the band, they never mentioned him, either. Never even mention that the band had an old singer.

I specifically remember them crediting Ricky Bobby as an old member on their (now gone) Myspace Music page and their Facebook page a while ago. Now they don't. They don't even have record of their old songs with his voice in them, no online proof that they ever even existed (though that may have something to do with copyrights and record label stuff).

Now. Honestly, Internet. If I was a part of a band at some point, even a really successful band, as they're becoming...I would want that credit. Even if it were just a couple words. An acknowledgement that I was a part of that band and I had a hand in creating it. And it seemed wrong to me that they weren't doing that for him anymore, especially when he deserved it.

So. Call me crazy, go on ahead. But I decided to do something about it.

Their official Facebook and website I couldn't do anything about, but their Wikipedia page, I could. So I did. On the spot, I made a Wikipedia account, with some random username that I would never use ever again, and I edited that Wiki page.

I added Ricky Bobby's name to that Wiki page under 'Past Members'. Where he deserved to be. And if anyone every takes it off, I'll put it back on again.

For me, it was...I don't know. The last nice thing I could do for Ricky Bobby, even though he'll never know that it was me. Something nice that I could do after the way that I treated him. A permanent mark on the Internet, symbolizing the permanent mark he left in my life.

Or even an official goodbye, the one we never got to have.

This is it, Internet. This is my goodbye to Ricky Bobby. For real this time.



Speaking of goodbyes and movings on, and non Ricky Bobby things, here's someone I haven't talked about in a while: Brennan.

So, last week, for the first time in a while, I got a snapchat from him. (Thankfully not of his cat this time. Did I talk about his cat snapchats here? I swear, there was at least 3 every week for 2 months straight.) I was surprised to see it, especially since after my icing out of him, he seemed to have finally given up.

After seeing that he also kept looking at all of my Snapchat stories, I decided to snoop around to see how he was doing lately.

We're not Facebook friends, but since we have a mutual friend (a girl I went to elementary school with), he shows up in my recommended friends all the time. So I snoop his page, and guess what?

Brennan has a girlfriend.

Yup.

He moved on pretty fast. It seems to have been pretty recent (they weren't dating earlier this year) and deciding to be creepy, I went onto her FB page to snoop. She's cute, and seems nice. Is a super anime fan like he is (cosplays and everything) and is a gamer as well. And together, they take super cute dates to the zoo and to parks and other super duper cute shit.

Not going to lie to you, Internet, I was a teeny bit jealous at first. And then I remembered that it was me who didn't want to date him in the first place, and me who wasn't even attracted to him, and me who ignored all his invitations to hang and all his friendly messages and cute (and ok, excessive) cat snapchats like an ice cold bitch.

I was just salty at first because how many freaking times does this make now that I almost date someone and then they turn around date someone else right after me?? But this time it is 100% my fault, which I acknowledge and fully own up to, so I digress.

So, getting over my petty jealousy, I decided I was happy for him for finding a nice girl. Who didn't ignore him, like me. Who clearly had more in common with him than me.

Congrats, Brennan and Girlfriend. Have a nice relationship. I promise I'll keep my bitter jealousy far away from the both of you.

So, Internet, I'll be over here, continuing to write my ass off, finishing this 31 day writing challenge, and moving on with my life. I'm very slowly starting to learn how that works.

Wish me luck.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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Drew: A One-man Disappearing Act; Part 2/The Final Act}
Tuesday, June 28, 2011 | 7:36 PM | 3Comment

So, Internet.

A few hours after the last entry, by that point, I had pretty much just had it, so I texted Drew. I had basically prepared myself for the worst, mostly because of his sudden weird and distant behavior. So, in my mind, things were most likely already finished.

But I text him anyway. And the whole conversation goes slowly downhill with every passing message. It goes like this:

Me: So, feeling any better?
Drew: Yeah, I am. How are you?
Me: That's good. I'm okay, babysitting. Been pretty busy lately. (It takes everything in me not to type 'AND I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO TEXT ME, ASSHOLE.')
Drew: Oh? Ditto. Haha.
Me: Yeah? More outdoorsy stuff? Haha. (He likes camping and hiking and things of that nature.)
Drew: Nah work. lol (Note the extremely short answers.)
Me: Ohh, I see. Sounds tough.
Drew: Eh, not too bad. Fun at times.
Me: That's good, then. Can't have all work all the time. Haha. (At this point I'm pretty fed up with this pointless small talk, and decide to say something that will maybe get him to talk more.) So I didn't say this before, but sorry I was so shy last week. ><; I was really nervous. Hahah.
Drew: Lol don't worry I was too.
Me: Haha, okay. I just didn't want to come off as weird or something. Although I kind of am weird, just not in that way. Lol.
Drew: Hahaha. Don't worry about it
Me: Hahah okay. :) (Okay, that bombed. Chat attempt number 2.) So, what was your impression of me? (Not a crazy question, right? Of course not. Just trying to make conversation.)
Drew: That seems like a loaded question. Lol
Me: Hahaha. It's not, I'm just curious. :)
Drew: Lol i dunno how to answer it
Me: (getting increasingly irritated now, because for the love of god, it's NOT THAT HARD TO ANSWER. I was practically FORCING OPEN THE WINDOW for a flirty comment from him.) Haha, however you want to answer it! It's just a question. lol
Drew: Awkward.
(Note: one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone feels the need to verbalize when an awkward moment is awkward. 9 times out of 10, the moment wasn't even awkward for the other person, until YOU made it that way. Just saying.)
Me: Hah...okay, I guess I'm not getting why that was such a weird question to ask? (And now I'm thinking, 'Mary and joseph, how old is he? 12?')
Drew: Oh no, I'm saying you seemed awkward...? (This is supposed to make me feel better, I suppose, when in fact it increases my irritation by 1000% percent.)
Me: Oh I see. Haha. Well, I totally am. 100%. lol (At this point, it takes everything in me not to respond spitefully, consider I nearly freaked out on him in my previous text.)
Drew: Lol (No objections? Okay. Great.)
Me: Haha. (Or in other words, I'm trying very hard not to bite your head off.) Plus, I tend to act like that when I get nervous anyway.
Drew: Haha. It happens.

Then, I proceeded to stop replying, so I can leave with at least some dignity left (or without taking my fury out on him. Which I very much felt like doing.).

Oh-ho-kay. Well where do I start? Do I start with how he was so obviously uninterested in talking to me? Or should I start with how I practically had to dig for a compliment and he ended up insulting me instead?

This is exactly why I don't think our little 'meeting' was a date at all. He hardly ever flirted with me before meeting me, and whenever he did it was usually just a ';)'. Which sometimes doesn't even count as flirting, in my opinion.

And the one compliment he gave me before we met? That I looked like a chipmunk. Because of my cheeks. He claimed he didn't mean for it to be mean. Oh, really? Well I've only had a complex about my cheeks since the 6th grade, so thank you so much for that.
I didn't say anything about it at the time, but it did bother me. A lot.

And so after our 'meeting', he completely stopped initiating conversation. I mean, completely. I simply don't get how if he apparently liked my personality before we met (he had to have at least liked my personality, or else he wouldn't have wanted to meet me. At all.) how it could have gone so sour after meeting me face-to-face for the first time.
I mean, my logic here: boy likes personality = boy likes appearance. Isn't that how it's supposed to work? Am I insane here for assuming??

And god forbid I actually be nervous meeting someone that I might like for the first time. This isn't like people who already know each other for a while going out for a date. This was my first time meeting him, ever. Why wouldn't I be nervous?

CAN I JUST SAY: yes, I am awkward around new people. It can take me a while to warm up to people when I first meet them. Sometimes I don't know what to say to them, or how to start a conversation. But after I warm up to people, I'm just fine. I can act 100% myself, and I'm perfectly comfortable.

Being shy is something that I've been consciously working on for a while. And so for someone--someone I don't even really know, in fact--to say that I was awkward, after only meeting me once for two hours, it was like a slap in the face.
Plus, the 'awkward homeschooler' stereotype is something that very much irks me, which is why it bothered me even more.

And it wasn't like he particularly did anything to make me comfortable with him. The whole time, he was either standing by me silently and staring at me with his hands in his pockets, walking off to go sit somewhere, or muttering something so quiet that sometimes I'd have to ask him to repeat himself. Hell, just the fact that he talked like Michael Cera could have been enough for me to throw back in his face.

But did I do that? No.
Because I knew he would most likely act differently once he opened up. I was willing to wait and see when that happened to really determine his personality.

And it really really bothers me that he's not giving me that chance. That he either saw my awkwardness, my freaking chipmunk cheeks, or something else he didn't like that made him decide that talking to me wasn't even worth it anymore.

So. Needless to say, I'm not texting him again.

These past few days, I've just been trying to get over my anger about it all. I'm mostly over it now, but it still annoys me when I think about it. I had begun to like Drew because of his maturity and his general non-judgmental attitude about things, but I suppose that non-judgmental attitude of his didn't include my demeanor.

But, hey. I'm not going to trip over someone that wasn't even that into me. I'd rather be involved with someone that likes me, and I mean really likes me, for me. All of me.

So, Drew was a pretty big waste of my time. But at least I got a first date out of it. (I'll call it that, it makes me feel better.) And I can add that to my list of firsts this summer. Here's to more firsts to come!


xo Hopeless Romantic

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Drew: A One-man Disappearing Act}
Tuesday, June 21, 2011 | 11:09 AM | 0Comment

First of all, Internet, let me just say that this is probably the quickest time that someone has lost interest in me. Probably record breaking, actually.

Not that that's saying much, though, because I think that brings the grand total of guys that have had interest in me to 5 since the beginning of middle school.

Let me explain. Remember last entry, when I said that there had been something related going on that I'd talk about later? Well. Here it is.

And I'm at least 96.99% sure that I'm not overreacting this time. Because here's the thing. Before Drew and I's meeting, or date (which I'm starting to think that maybe it wasn't a date in the first place--back to square one) he texted me first everyday, or at least every other day. And every once in a while I texted him first. And he always constantly seemed genuinely interested in talking to me, asking me questions about myself, stuff that shouldn't even matter, but it mattered to him.

Now, after our date, he texted me once right after I got home, apologizing for 'being boring because he was exhausted'(on account of the late night shift he works at a hospital), which I assured him was fine, and that I had a great time.

After that? Nothing, basically.
The day after that, I texted him first, and his answers were short and distracted. Which I got, really, since he said he was hiking. So after a few exchanges, I left it at that, because I didn't want to bug him. Then passes two more days without a text from him. A little odd, considering how he had wanted to talk to me so much before, even if it was irrelevant and pointless conversation.

By now, it's Thursday. After I write the last entry on here, I text him to see how he is. Conversation seems a little more normal than the last time we talked. He mentions that he's been sick and super busy.
Which seems perfectly acceptable to me, except after the conversation ends (abruptly and two hours later, which probably meant he fell asleep, but doesn't settle well with me that much either because he used to say goodnight before he went to bed before) when I think about how he'd been plenty busy before and still at least tried to talk to me.

So now it's five days later. I've waited to see if he would get curious enough about how I'm doing to text me, but he hasn't. I would text him first again, but by now I think I would come off as a bit desperate.

I suppose, Internet, that this is Drew's way of telling me he isn't interested anymore. Or maybe he wasn't even interested to begin with, I don't know. I just wish he'd tell me if he was or not, I hate beating around the bush about these things, and I really can't take a hint. I need to hear it for myself. I feel like I deserve that, at least.

Either way, I'm disappointed. Up to last week, I had kept my hopes back, knowing that it could go either way, but I suppose they got away from me. Though, I don't really know how they couldn't have, I thought the date(or non-date) went well, to be honest.

I mean, after a good first date, can you blame me? I admit, I got hopeful. But maybe it didn't go as well as I thought it did.

I knew there was a possibility that it could all end, I just didn't think it would end so soon. But at least we weren't together at all. I think it would've been worse that way.

Well, Internet. It begins again. Here's to the single life.


xo Hopeless Romantic

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