The Attention-Seeking Whiner. Me.

So I had a total of four views on my last blog post. One person said they were going to miss me on facebook. I'm assuming that you, dear reader, already consider me an attention-seeking whiner. And to that I say: you're right. Deal with it. You wanna know why I might have turned into an attention-seeking whiner? Because, although I have my family and the odd friendly co-worker, I have no friends here in England except for the Sister Missionaries. Whoop. De. Doo. Since I'm not even a member of the church any more, that fact is just pathetic, as nice as they are. My boyfriend, or I suppose my ex-boyfriend, hasn't talked to or texted me in about five weeks. Fair enough. But that includes the three weeks previous to my breaking up with him, so he didn't even say goodbye to me. He didn't even say "I really hate you Danie. I'm never communicating with you again." He just....stopped. Nothing. To me, anyway. The updates about his fabulous escapades with his friends, his sheer delight as he collects girl's phone numbers, and weekly self-promoting selfies (redundant wording, I am aware) were and are all daggers to my heart. Because he has time for the masses, but didn't have time for me. If you were wondering why I deleted my facebook account, it's because I knew if I had access to his status updates and the photographic chronology of his life there would be no chance of me ever moving on from that relationship. So I removed myself from a permanent stalking of his existence. When I tried to be strong about the break-up, I just looked like an idiot. And when I tried to apologize to him publicly I got called "desperate". Guess what, reader? That is also accurate. I am desperate. I am a desperate, attention-seeking whiner. And I get to write about it however I feel like, because it's my freaking blog.

There's another thing. I've received complaints and concerns about what I write here. FINE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN DON'T FRACKING READ IT. I am not writing to make you, dear reader, feel comfortable or give you illusions about how put-together I am. This blog is me in my resplendent madness. I'm not attempting to sell myself as a perfect human. I'm not trying to be an example of how to live life. I hope you don't expect the deep and profound here, because all you are going to find are the random musings and fleeting fancies of a confused, satisfied, angry, content, messed up human being. Because, yet again, I am all of those things. I don't like pretending to be something I'm not.

I am sorry if anyone is offended. Because I can imagine that even the random people in Korea that apparently read this blog could find something to be offended about here. But this is what it is. I wish we could all acknowledge that people are people, and we really shouldn't expect the people we know to contribute positively to our lives just because we happen to know them. That's not my job, dear reader. I have no job. I just write.

Thanks. I'm gonna get back to not sleeping before my 14 hour workday tomorrow.

I did a crazy thing!

I made a new best friend today....and checked off a bucket list item. Here she is :)

Isn't she lovely? :D

The bravado is mostly facade...and other words I can't tell you.

I'm writing this here because you won't read what I have to say if I say it anywhere else. And, as I assume is preferable, I won't have to know when or if you've read it..

All the words I want to use I have used already. Nothing I want to say can be said. The words that come to mind have been tainted with other meanings. There are things I want to tell you that can only be told with a kiss. There is wisdom I cannot understand because I have little experience with the languages of love and the universe. I want be able to explain myself and my actions. I want to be able to reconcile with you. But now my words are blotchy. I deal too often in absolutes. I have simple thoughts but only bulbous words to express them. I want you to know so many things. I can only hope that day will come.

I can't tell you that I love you because you won't believe me and people tell me it isn't the right thing to say any more. I should move on and find someone who is willing to commit to me, they say. I don't want to listen to them because you are my perfection and, although the freedom of choice gave me an initial rush, no one compares to you. I do not want to settle. I worried about one thing, we didn't understand each other, and then everything blew up.

I can put on my tough face and splatter the internet with exclamations of my strength and bravado, but it is mostly a facade. What I want is understanding. What I really want is you. It is true that I can be happy without you, but I have a much greater capacity for happiness when you are with me. What really kills is that it appears to be so easy for you to forget about me. Your happiness is still intact. I suppose that's my fault for doing everything I could to force you to miss me. Bravado doesn't suit me, does it?

Determination

I realized yesterday that I am crazy.

You'd think I knew that already. But it was an epiphany. I am crazy. I have issues. I am not a perfect human being. There are things about me that I need to fix.

So here's the plan. I am going to fix myself. Because, although I am more than happy to recognize the importance of defects and quirks in every human being, there are a couple of quirks I have that are messing my life up and hurting people I really love. And I'm not proud of that.

A conversation I had with my Dad in the car yesterday was centered around the idea of change. How much can we change ourselves? Is it actually beneficial to change for another person? Are you required to keep loving someone if they change beyond the scope of your original love? I came to the conclusion that as long as the motivation behind personal change is to keep hold of something more important to you than yourself, the change is well worth it.

And love is always well worth it. So fix myself I shall.