Haunt me.

I am in need of some attention (again).

You’re tweeting and that makes me need someone; could be anyone; to give me attention. Half to keep my mind away from you. The other half because my ego simply craves it.

I’m not sure if I am egocentric, narcissistic, vain, or incredibly insecure. Is it possible to be all of them?

This is one of the things that scares me about myself. Sure, I can be single. But, can I live without someone showing me some sort of desire towards me? How can I be truly independent and confident if this is what I need, practically everyday?

Perhaps this need has stemmed from my old body dysmorphic disorder. How pathetic of me.

Plausible?

I have actually drafted a do-able (ish) life plan to achieve my goals (mentioned previously).

I really need to get out of this job I am in. I can’t handle it. How can I manage a shop in just 16 hours a week, all by myself? I simply can’t. The circumstances of that shop make it pretty impossible. I cannot be a full-time student and a part-time manager.

Therefore I have started job searching.

Pray to God that a new job comes within the next, ooh I don’t know, 8 months? Surely that’s enough time?

Those 8 months at my current job would definitely knock off about 8 years of my life.

Ugh.

Palpitations.

I experienced heart palpitations today. First time I think.

My head feels like it’s going to explode too. I think drinking Red Bull actually worsened the situation.

It’s just general stress really. My first university deadline is coming up; I’m not enjoying my job anymore; and I am trying to plan my future a bit, all at the same time.

My main goal for next year is to move out. I can’t stay in the family home much longer; it’s driving me mad. I know I know, I should appreciate it while I can. I don’t want to though. I want my own space. I want more responsibilities. I want the chance to leave my hometown.

So. Yes. My brain is close to detonation for several reasons;

  1. I have my university deadline coming up, for all four modules.
  2. My new-job-stress is taking it’s toll. I don’t enjoy it anymore.
  3. I want a job in the career path that my degree is. What is the point otherwise?
  4. I need a plan to move out.
  5. I also want to get laid regularly; but not necessarily be just a fuck buddy.

 

Bi-confusion.

When trying to get answers about how your fuck buddy actually thinks of you; it is of annoyance when he starts to inquire about a potential threesome.

Yes, I can honestly admit that I am bi-curious, if I must put a label on myself. But it’s not really what I want you to be texting me about, when feeling confused about what we are to each other (if anything at all).

I’ve gone and done something that I have kind of wanted to do but been scared of doing for a while. This slight confusion and curiosity about my sexuality has gone on long enough; I want to find out one way or the other. Therefore I have gone back onto POF to potentially date girls. I know. I am a contradictory twat. First I complain about the guy I am “seeing”, then I go and make a dating profile for other ladies.

Of course, if I was dating someone in a more serious way then I wouldn’t create a dating profile. Seeing as I feel more and more insecure about how he feels about me (if he has any feelings at all that aren’t in the genitalia area), I figure why not? We shall see what happens.

Thing is; I don’t think I know how to flirt with girls anyway?

Direct.

I want answers that I don’t know how to get.

I tried to last night; but you were not catching my drift.

Being direct is much preferred than all this subtle bullshit. The politics of dating really do hold you back, don’t they?

Instead of asking you what I really want to ask, I will ask the internet peoples; are we just fucking?

I think I like you. I don’t think I could see anything really serious developing between us. But this head-fuck of not knowing quite what is happening is just stupid. I would like to start dating you properly. Take me out. We can still have sex afterwards, because trust me, I will want to. Funny though; how when we are at your flat it feels like a little sex nest that I don’t want to leave. A bubble of a parallel universe; popped by the late night train times (that I cannot afford to miss).

You’ve invited me to a party at yours. How on Earth are you going to introduce me?! That is probably the main reason I would attend.

Just do us both a favour; tell me what you think of me. And not just the sexy parts. But the brain bits.

Hot water bottle scars.

The pains of my stomach are not much compared to the uncomfortable feelings of pathetic I have.

One of the negatives of being a woman I suppose. I do hate that.

Insecurities are natural, however; I punish myself greatly for them. The vizard of being an oh-so confident young lady is not enough for me. I need to feel that strong on the inside as well. And why can’t I? Why do such insecurities pull me down so frequently?

That euphoria I feel about you does not last long. You are a high to me. But I fall so hard when not around you, or getting the attention I desire and crave. This is the pathetic feelings that I have been suffocated by of recent. Is that just a woman thing? Or a completely irrational ridiculous deplorable mixture of sheiße.

Am I shallow to need such attention from you? How on Earth do I go about getting it in the first place, whilst keeping up my confident exterior? If only there was a fool proof guide. And no; I’m not going to turn to reading Cosmopolitan.