Carrie: Did I really love Big, or was I addicted to the pain, the exquisite pain, of wanting someone so unattainable.
So here I am alone in my room. Obviously PMS-ing and being PMS-y. Well besides that, I found a note torn from a book on my desk. I do that a lot. Leave notes all over my desk, they're memos on ideas or thoughts I want to elaborate more on. Or they're just notes reminding when to work neatly scattered in between old photographs from yesteryears when calories were not listed in menus. Scribbled on the note was a quote from early January with the above "Carrie" quote. Yes, I'm a fan. Deal with it. Regardless this quote struck a cord with me. At the time I kept dating these randos who just never made it official or kept me at a distance. Always touching from a distance, and I did not understand why it just could never work. Why, for the love of allah was it impossible to get close. Impossible to know someone. Impossible to be a part of something. For the longest time I blamed it on these randos being this way from drinking too much Brooklyn tap. Why was it that we could be all that we can be, like holding hands and forming parenthesizes underneath sheets? Yet, mention that you at least want to feel secure in what's happening and know that "he" doesn't just see it as weekly friends (with you and other ladies) hang out with benefits thing. Then, like a flash from a silver tray hitting me in the eye, I blamed it on me. It made more sense to blame it on me. Maybe, I get too comfortable or ask too many questions and don't answer enough. Then I started to believe some girls just looked like girlfriends and had those traits, and I was not one of them. Sounds crazy since the previous two years was the only time in my life of singledom (very fun but also very depressing sometimes, like when I PMSed). No, it was because I kept going after guys with a douchebag mind track. I know they're bad for me, but I do it anyway after everyone (not kidding, literally everyone) says don't do it. I like to get hurt and I do (did?) it continuously. It's like walking over "caution! wet floor" signs in cheap heels and busting your left ass check, but you saw the sign and have no one to blame but yourself.
Anywhoozers, this was somehow still stored in mind from January. And that's how I felt in January, possibly February through March. April? Maybe. Feelings like this are fleeting and come and go. Go and come, and maybe return. But, I still feel it's hard to get close. Everyone has this wall up, including myself, and it's lame because it's buffering my connection with another. How do people connect anymore, if they wont express themselves? So notice this entry, and notice the expressing I'm doing. I'm honestly tired of the second guessing of my words or leaving something on my brain and being moody because I don't feel it's chat appropriate. I miss my Aunt, am afraid of losing my sister to soccerma hood, miss to death my late night chats with those closet to me and my ma's sanity. I'm also afraid about those million years spent in college and still have no clear direction in where my life is going.
Maybe it's not PMS, maybe it's just holding myself back. It's too much sometimes. Ugh... need a cigarette break now.
I should probably get a penpal. They probably wouldn't mind getting close and including me in their life. And likewise.
P.s. Remember those times we pinky-swore not to tell anyone after telling each other who stole the chalk. I miss moments like those.
@TheStyleBoro on Instagram
