I have one particular blog reader whose identity I do not know, but somehow she seems to have an interest in who I “like”. She could be a he or someone under a pseudonym for all that matters. It’s all right. We need to be more open about our feelings anyway. This blog post is somewhat for you, you know who you are, anonymous blog reader.
Last night I received perhaps an important revelation about the guy I “like”: That he already met the parents of a girl who “approached” him first.
I stopped dead in my typing tracks. Wait, what? I don’t go after guys who are already considering other people!! I wanted to strangle him. Why didn’t you tell me so all my cryptic faux love poems didn’t go to waste to someone who ALREADY MET THE PARENTS OF SOMEONE ELSE?! I wanted to type. But instead, I wished him luck. All these while his words had been “I don’t have anybody” and “I’m focusing on my studies.” This is like Fourteen-Year-Old Salamahafifi all over again. Ten years ago, the LAST time I liked a guy, he said the same thing and then introduced me to his girlfriend two weeks later.
If only people had been more truthful. I wouldn’t have wasted eight months of my life carefully arranging sentences. Oh well. What’s done is done. That stopped-dead-in-my-typing-tracks feeling left me speechless. I really didn’t know what to say last night. Other people were messaging me but I just didn’t want to reply. It wasn’t a sad feeling. It was a did-I-really-just-go-for-a-ride and a wow-Fifi-that-sucks kinds of feeling. The kind where you realised you did something stupid and you can never take it back. So I let myself sleep off with that feeling. “A great novel to come?” someone asked.
Something should come out, right? I expressed my last fake rejection with so much emotion. (Usually, I get one emotion and I can expand them so much that it becomes fiction.) I woke up excited and went straight to the laptop to write something. BUT NOTHING CAME OUT. After two paragraphs, still nothing. No feeling. No anger. Nothing. Frustrated, I stopped trying. Why can’t I write anything about how this guy rejected me? Where’s my caged hearts and shielded knights, the terms I used for myself when I feel hurt? Where were they? They didn’t surface this time!
It could mean two things:
1) I didn’t like this guy with the intention of using him as a part of my literature.
2) It’s true love
LOL at the 2nd part. I’m only kidding. But I istikharah (a prayer you do when you don’t know what to do about choices) everyday (almost). Not only choices about your future spouse but I use it to rely totally on Allah on all my choices for the day. Whether I take this highway or not. Or eat waffles or pancakes. It’s like supported intuition. And I don’t feel any bad feelings about this guy. I’m confident writing these because I don’t think he’d bother to read my blog.
Everywhere I go I get asked if I’m single. Not in an attention-seeking kind of way, but to spice up the conversation, in my histrionic-style anyway, I would say “I like a guy but he doesn’t like me back!” “Does he have someone else?” they’d ask. “He said no,” I would respond.
Gasps would fill the room, or the corners we’re in.
“He must be gay.”
“He must be really really busy.”
“Or he’s been with other girls.”
“90% of guys won’t say no to you.”
“You could snap your fingers and three trucks full of men would come to you.”
I’ve never really thought that there could be anything wrong with me. I am understanding. I need little attention. I can validate myself. I’m used to being by myself I practically don’t need a man! I’ve heard that I’m intimidating, but that’s something I’d brush off. I’m someone who kisses chickens to bed. How intimidating could that be? Then my brother told me, “You need to think of your age.” and my mom said, “You need to open your heart,” that I figured out: that there must be something wrong with me that I’m not getting guys who’d like me for me.
So every now and then I would text my friends to ask for help in my self-improvement. 100%, including my brother, would tell me I’m FINE. But if I am fine, how come I’m still totally single?!
So with that, I present: 9 Things That Might Be Wrong With Me (different from title, but whatevs)
I have no idea what this means. But that’s what I’ve heard they say about me, so okay let’s put it as numero uno.
Well it gets the job done well, no? Sometimes people need a little push. Do things too slowly. I’m the pusher. And I can push because I get my work done too.
3. Not pretty
You could put lipstick on a cow and the cow would look good, is my philosophy in makeup. But then again maybe that’s why?
4. I don’t have the “ideal” body size
I’m not self-conscious about this at all, but it could be a reason.
I magnify everything, I know. But that’s also why I don’t complain about how mundane my life is. Life is exciting when you see it from a different angle. And my angle happens to come equipped with zooming lenses too. It’s not bending the truth. It’s making it fun. I could’ve made my rejection some pity party but no. I am making fun of it. Maybe you’d like a girl who’s a bit more modest and shy and…boring.
6. Speak My Mind
Again, I don’t see this as a flaw, but it could be one of the reasons why. If you mean that I’m meant to sit in the corner and keep quiet about how I feel, to then bitch about it to friends, I’d rather be by myself, thank you.
7. I Come Across As A Know It All
I remember someone tagging me as Hermione Granger back in school. Before I ask I would Google. Before I say “What is that?” I would Google. But when I found out that guys actually like to explain things to us, I stopped Googling and depended on the guy to tell me what it is. See how much I’ve dwindled myself to be likable??!
8. You Know I Don’t Need You
My father had left me (as in, he forgot about me) many times on my own. I’m taught to rely on myself. But everybody in the family relies on me. If I can handle what my father does to me, you know I would have no problem ticking you off should I be crossed. I think that somehow affects a man’s ego. They want to feel needed.
9. The fact that I can’t even continue this list seriously to find something I’m insecure about because there is none
Ah, dammit. I was hoping that I would write something emotional to fuel my writer’s block, to write some sad stories, but I guess it’s not my emotional time yet. Will try again next time.
I’m frustrated I’m turning 25 and I’m dealing with these feelings, tho. I used to laugh it off when people said I need to start looking. I am, however, open to forever aloneness.
Sounds all right to me.