Tag Archives: introvert

Dear Diary,

I saw on t.v. or a movie (or some kind of media) recently that someone had the ambition of exchanging journals with another someone they liked.  Which made me think of the Nintendo series “Harvest Moon” where, at least in some titles, you have to read your love interest’s journal to get a vibe of where they’re at in your budding romance.  Which made me wish I were keeping a journal or a diary of sorts in the event of cute guys.

I mean, I suppose this whole blog is more or less a journal.  It’s all about my feelings, after all.  But everything here is so depressing.  If I had a prospective love interest, this blog is where I would send him before I make nookie with him and then eat him alive like a black widow, baby.

This place is sad.  And repetitive.  Endlessly so.

I hate feeling so invalid.  What I have to say isn’t important to anyone.  It’s unimportant to even myself.  So much so that I oft times have nothing to say at all.

Being younger was so much easier.  I miss high school a lot these days.  Sure, I felt I was depressed in high school too, but there was so much more going on then.  So much more to look forward to and to have feelings about.  Dinner at the café and then movies or video games with a couple friends on Thursdays.  Procrastinating homework to the bitter end on Sunday.  (Hey, it made dicking around on my own feel a lot more productive than it ever does these days).  Even school itself made things feel more acceptable.

School was an ego boost.  Teachers loved me.  Getting good grades gave me purpose.  There were tons of people my age at my disposal for friendship or comradery. Other people who were feeling low.  Other people who were feeling rebellious.  Other people who were feeling studious.  Other people who were feeling mediocre.  Other people digging art, or video games, or anything under the sun.  There was always someone for me to relate myself too.  I miss that.

If I were keeping a day to day journal in present time, and I shared it with someone I valued, it would go something like this:

“Deary Diary,

Today was pretty average.  I showered last night so I could sleep in a little extra this morning.  It wasn’t especially helpful though because I stayed up late waiting for my hair to dry.  I guess either way I got my standard 6 hours…

I watched a few more episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood before work as well.  It was good, but I had trouble focusing.  Then I was almost made late for work trying to decide which method for hiding my chest would be best today.  I ended up just wearing my baggiest hoodie over top of a tank top. Thank goodness for winter!

Work was okay.  I had a lot of trouble today and asked a lot of questions.  Even though I’m still pretty new, no one I work with has any patience with me at all. Everyone is very aggressive and the way they answer my questions makes me feel lesser of myself every time I ask… I don’t like these people, and even though I do like this job, I don’t know how long I can put up with the same few people everyday who have nothing in common with me. I spend my breaks in the bathroom stall just to escape the noise and the hostility.

The walk home after work was nice, however. It was very cold, and I wore my really short ankle socks. My scarf kept my face warm but I loved how cold my feet were. Sometimes I feel like the cold biting at my feet as I walk home is the only sensational part of my day. Everything else is forgettable.

The cats ate good for me when I got home, thankfully! Not a day goes by that I don’t worry about them getting sick again. I rinsed their bowls and kissed their noses before deciding to eat dinner myself. As usual, I really don’t have much to eat so I settled for baked perogies again.

I thought I would try and pick up A Link to the Past after dinner, because I really just want to beat it and move on to A Link Between Worlds, but I didn’t have the motivation. I watched some recordings from last night instead and accidentally fell asleep. Luckily, the girls woke me up when it was time to feed them again, so I did just that and then crawled in to bed.

I thought about crying tonight, but I just didn’t feel like I had it in me. Maybe tomorrow night will be a better night for it, since I won’t have to be up early for work the next morning.

Until then,

Blue”

And the saddest part of all of this? I don’t have any love interests. I don’t know anybody. There’s no boy in my Science class who sits next to me so I can do his homework in exchange for subtely smelling his beautiful being. And there’s no homeroom teacher from the house down the street to crush on and pretend he has a vested interest in my life when in reality its just his job to keep track of me and the other kids appointed to him.

It’s just me. I don’t even know any boys. What are those anyways?

Dear Diary, help me.

For whom my knowledge thirsts.

I am a not a people person.  (But that’s not to say that I am not personable).  For my whole life, I have never known myself to be comfortable or entirely invested in getting to know any given individual.  It’s just kind of who I am.  I’m an introvert.  Obviously I have my mom and my sister.  My one best friend whom I met when I was 13 (and even then the level of comfort I have with her now took years to develop).  I have two coworkers that I have bonded with over this past year.  And, well, that’s about it.  Apart from my ex of course, but that’s a little one sided.

My point is, there are very few people in this world who I have met that I just… jive with.  Someone who–for no apparent reason–just captivates me.  Someone I find myself emulating.  Someone I go out of my way to interact with; learn about, ask questions, propose activities to.  Someone whose soul crosses paths with mine just as the proverbial stars fall perfectly in line.

I met someone the other day.

We are training him at our Starbucks, and eventually sending him to another store.  It didn’t take long to find myself very involved in trying to learn more about him.  It has been nice–finding myself interested in something.  Someone, even!

And I’m not fawning over him like this is love at first sight, or anything of the sort.  Sure I am attracted to him, but I am also interested in him as a person, and that’s what makes this unique for me.  So for the past few days I have spent all my time with him at work, prodding him for details of his life and his being.  I want to know him.

So, I gave him my number today.  I am so nervous!!  I tried to do so innocently enough, but I am a bit rusty at reaching out to people at this point in my life.  Today is the last day I will have seen him unless he texts me and we arrange to hang out, and the suspense is killing me!  I don’t know how long is appropriate that I should wait before I start losing hope!

I guess I just wanted to get this out on my blog because it would be nice to open up my life to a new person, and let myself learn and grow under a new friendship.  I’d like to write about my experiences here if I am graced with such an opportunity!

So wish me luck!!  –Blue

Finding what’s already found.

‘kay guise.  I’m depressed.

I’ve been stuck in this horrible rut for the better part of 2012 now, and I need to make a change in my life.  Except then I start to wonder, do I really?

I remember what my life was like before meeting my ex.  I was content.  I was lonely, but I was content.  I didn’t mind being all alone in my apartment.  I didn’t mind putzing and twiddling and lazy evenings and pizza night.  That’s who I’ve been my whole life.  Pry myself out of bed before sunrise, game all day, parouse the internet, watch a movie in bed, pass out, rinse and repeat.  What changed?  Why can’t I do that anymore?

To be honest, I never found much more than that out of my ex.  He never took me anywhere or acknowledged me publicly.  We stayed in my apartment and did those very things day in and day out.  But I was happy.

I went home this summer after he left me.  Maybe I’m just a baby, but I was devastated.  Suddenly I realized just how alone I was in this city and I couldn’t stand to be around the memories of him any longer.  I retreated.  I paid rent on this stupid apartment for 2 months without being in it once.

I came back to dead plants.  Empty towel racks and tooth brush holders.  Used blankets and an unkempt bed smothered in his lingering scent.  A dirty and depraved flower vase that only months prior had been overflowing with fragrant placeholders of a man’s unassuming affection.

I came home to an apartment rife with the stale, musky penchant of bitter lonliness.

I got kittens.

If nothing else, my apartment now smells of dander and soiled litter.  And I love my kittens.  They’re good company when company is what they seek.  But I’m still void of any semblance of purpose in my life.  I love that I have something to be responsible for now, but to what extent does that really feed my need to be needed?

I feel like I’m searching for something in life that I already have.  “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”–I remember the past.  I remember everything.  So then why am I condemning myself?