The Five Stages of Grief & How I Handle Love

If I had a whole list of things about the reasons I'm a fucked up person, "love makes me sad" would probably be number 7 or 8.  And "Being Naggy" would be 13, but that's a different story.

When it comes to love in real life, I basically go through the five stages of grieving.

1) Denial.  I don't love this guy, I haven't been with him long enough to love him.  I still think other guys are cute sometimes.  What is love anyway?  Maybe I love him, but I'm not in love with him, there's a difference right?

2) Anger.  How dare I love someone?  It's not like this is going to amount to anything!  How dare he be so nice that I fall in love?  This is stupid!  I'm stupid!  

3) Bargaining.  Maybe if distance myself from him I won't love him anymore.  I won't text back as fast, we won't hang out as often, I won't wear the bracelet he got me and I won't love him this much and it'll all be fine.  Maybe by doing all of these things he'll think I'm crazy and distance himself from me!  Then I really won't love him this much, genius!

4) Depression.  If I tell him I love him things will be too serious, and then they won't work out.  He's going to break my heart, and worse, I deserve it for being such a dumbass and falling for him.  I don't deserve love, there's no way he'll love me back, this is going to end badly. [insert countless versions of a break up scene.]

5) Acceptance.  I've been told it's nice at this stage, I wouldn't know. [insert more of stage 4 depression.]

Since I was 15 I've always thought I was too weird, too ugly, and too overlooked to ever make someone happy.  For the past 5 years that line of thought has proven to be true.  It's what I've told myself after every breakup or version of "heartbreak" that I've come across in my life.  When someone leaves me, it's always because I'm lacking in some way.  I've talked about this a lot in my blog, I know I have, and hopefully I'm not beating people over the head with it.  It's just such a destructive line of thought and I know that it affects me in every relationship I have.

In my current relationship my boyfriend puts in effort to better himself for me (haircut, cutting back a bit on cigarettes, etc), he gets jealous of other guys, and laughs at my jokes.  He'll even stay up for over 24 hours to spend time with me (he works night shift, makes for weird hangout and sleeping hours). He tells me I'm beautiful every day, he says how lucky he is to have me every chance he gets, and I literally catch him gazing at me.

When he does or says these things, I get very quiet and reserved and he always asks me what's wrong.  I don't know how to tell him that I'm scared sick of how breaking up or him not putting in as much effort will affect me.  That I don't feel like I deserve these things.  I'm not good enough for this.  I feel like a fraud, accepting gifts that belong to some other girl.  Some other girl that he will eventually find and leave me for.  I really don't know how to say it without sounding pathetic or ungrateful or without making him mad at how much I dislike myself.  I mean, if I don't like "me," how can anyone else?

No Money, No Worries, & A Cherry for Your Trouble

Well, I didn't post at all in May because I was pretty busy wearing that mortar board cap they require graduates to buy and actually wear during the ceremony.  You see, graduating isn't all about listening to speeches and walking down an aisle to take your seat.  No, it's about sending out announcements, planning a party, getting your grades in order, determining your last day, etc, etc.
I also didn't post in May, because believe it or not, I'm one boring broad.  Taking the time to turn my mundane everyday events into witty posts is exhausting, for me to write & you to read.
However, a few things of interest have happened lately, and I feel the need to share them with the ever present cyber-space.  A lovely thing with mo judgments, no pity, and most of the time no response, is just the kind of listener I need.

I found out last Wednesday that the current business I work for closed.  Picture me, getting ready for work the night before, taking my shower, figuring out what to wear (pretty open dress code), setting my clock for the time I need to wake up, only to realize the next morning that it's all for naught.  Not only would I not be going into work that day, but I wouldn't be going into work ever again.  It's not the kind of thing you want to hear over a bowl of cheery-o's.
No notice.  Worse, no pay.  As in my last week of pay, about a 100 dollars, will be forever in my boss's (boss'?) pocket.  Bankrupt.
Now, I don't know about you, but if I'm going bankrupt I'm well aware of it way before the day before it happens.
Since there is nothing I can do to a) get my job back, or b) get my money back, I'm going to leave it at this.  It was a great first job, it got me though senior year & paid for Lucy (my car) to run all over the place, as well as get odds and ends fixed.
I made friends, and I managed to get a good reference.
The End.


Now, I wonder how much of my other new & ever-so-exciting news I should share.  I've really poured my heart out on here before, and I worry that one day someone who knows me will come across this page and literally shit a brick.  I'm always hesitant of new things, mostly because I don't want to shout out how cool my new toy is to the entire world, only to have it embarrassingly break three seconds later.  I don't want to say "I met a boy" only to have the whole thing fade away within a week.  Then I have to face my misplaced excitement and this post and decide what level of stupidity I was on before I check back in to the real world.   Or something between me and him might happen, then I'll want to post on here about it, but it would feel all out of the blue due to a lack of background story.  And lets be honest, when you have something awesome to share, who wants to waste time with a shitty background story??
So, I met a guy.  He's different, and I like it.  Different from any other guy I've ever liked, and I think better.

*Also, the lack of trouble I've given my parents in school and with grades (plus the fact I've never snuck out & don't really party), I've made up for with my choice of men.  I did a number with the 23 year old ex-drug addict, but this one is a cherry on top.
That's all for now.