Feeling: Utterly confused
Listening to: ironically, Lady Jane Grey - This is Love
Reading/Watching: magazine. my IQ is dropping as we speak.

Oh dear.

Don't you hate it when karma comes back to bite you in the ass?

It really irritated the hell out of me when guys used to pawn off that stupid line, "There are girls you date and girls you marry."

I thought it was the most ridiculous thing in the world, particularly since that was their explanation for why no one would date me. Don't you have to date someone before you can marry them? Is that supposed to be some half-ass way of saying, "Don't worry honey, when they're done screwing around with the really hot girls they'll settle for you"?

It's true, though. Maybe not the dating vs. marry thing, but definitely there are girls you casually date, and girls you fall for. All those friends who told me "When some guy gives you a chance, he's going to fall hard," may not have just been trying to make me feel better.

Quincy just called me, and we talked about nothings. We actually resorted to small-talk. On the phone. He mentioned the weather. It was so ass-awkward, I was groping for a subject to bring up, any kind of funny story or tale about my day, anything. I've never been that gifted with telephones anyway, but seriously, I'm usually not that pathetic.

It's just that we honestly don't have enough in common. We try to talk about movies, books, music. Our tastes are very different. At least with the other boys I can tap into my dork-vibe and talk Dragonlance Chronicles with them, maybe discuss a bit about how the Weis and Hickman originals are so infinitely superior to all the spin-offs. But Quincy's not really into that stuff. It's beginning to remind me of how Sixteen Candles might have gone if they'd done a few more scenes on the inevitable aftermath between wallflower Samantha and hot red-car-guy, or the geek and the prom queen.

And pardon me for ranting, please don't think that this is some sign that I'm the most fickle girl alive and I'm about to dump this poor boy, because I'm going to work this out in time and maybe along the way we'll find some common ground because there are actually stories about opposites attracting and surely they had to be inspired by somebody somewhere, right? I'm just going off because that's what you do, in a diary.

Quincy is writing me a poem. He told me about it. It's about me, and how we met, and how we got together. He wouldn't read any of it to me; he's working on it until he leaves for Thanksgiving. He talks about how he couldn't sleep, thinking about me last night. This, inexplicably, worries the living crap out of me. I do not want poetry and flowers and fairy tales right now. I want fun and hanging out and kissing and laughing and no no no no heartache because I adore this boy and wouldn't disappoint him for anything and dammit, why can't we just keep things simple and happy?

I want to be the girl you casually date. I do not want to be the girl you fall for. And karma has a sick, sick sense of humor, giving me what I've always wanted when I don't want it anymore.

Comments? 1 so far...
Not a Diaryland member? Sign the Guestbook.