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Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Boys, Boys, Boys

1) No matter where I am or what I'm doing, be it driving or strolling, in Boston or in NYC, every fleeting biker who passes through my peripheral automatically draws my full attention. Even though it's been over a year since we last were together, my eyes never stopped searching for him.

2) UO the other day and recognizing Isaac was pleasantly strange. Since graduating, my days have been accented with washes of nostalgia--not so much over Nobles ironically, but over all the people and experiences who so powerfully informed the young person that I was and the adult that I now am. Those phase-like friendships, as brief as some were, as dangerous as others were, all were drops in my well and memories that I haven't forgotten. They always nourished me in one way or another, but stayed nestled somewhere deep in the back of my mind. 
When I finally recognized him, it was like tapping back into that well and bringing to surface all the 16-year-old feelings I carried for him and memories that I once so cherished. I remember laying in bed at 3 or 4 am on more than one occasion, waiting on his texts and abandoning much needed sleep. We would text day and night, and I loved the thought of being on his mind even if I wasn't his love interest.  
The night he first smoked weed, he was nervous and confused. He talked to me throughout the night because it comforted him, and that's how I became the first person in his life he told. He was the first boy who turned to me and confided that experience, but he wasn't the last. Ha, I don't know how I ended up in this role, but I find it so deeply endearing to be this type of confidante to these dudes
He was adopted, which I for some reason at the time found so wonderful and unique.
I fucking loved the way he wore his black leather jacket, white beater, and hypebeast kicks.
Lastly, I felt safe when we hugged, and disappointed whenever he'd spend time with the other Kim in the studio. I'd get all dolled up on the days he told me he'd visit, sweating in that damn studio but praying that I still looked cute, only to either get a no-show or share him with her.  And the day I swear we almost kissed absolutely rattled me.
It was all so pathetic on my part, but it's scary to admit that in some ways I haven't changed. 
I still long for boys I have no business waiting for.

3) This dude's mad sweet and adorable--and I'm a sucker for tight squeezes, skateboards, and kisses on the cheek--but I just can't... I ain't about that long distance Boston x Lawrence type loves (unless it's Y-B!), and even more importantly, there just isn't any chemistry or any energy that gets me chasing. He just doesn't carry the confidence, ambition, creativity, or old-soul-wrestling-in-young-bones vibe that I've fallen for in the past. I also don't laugh enough in his presence... I can't love a guy who's less funny than me because that's a huge issue in and of itself! I hate being in this bitchy position, but it's mos def a case of nice guys finishing last... I just hope it's my loss and not his, and that he realizes how very shallow his perceptions and interest in me are. 
It's been five days since we met. This is silliness.

4) He needs to chill his tits. I respect his game and his perseverance, and it was a little entertaining, but the novelty of it all is wearing off. I am not good at holding conversations that aren't in person, slash I hate that time-consuming phase where you're getting to know someone through non-face-to-face means. I don't enjoy FB chat, I gave up iChat and AIM a damn long time ago, and I would rather not continue the senseless chitchats about meeting up or what you ate for lunch today (note: MacDonald's doesn't even qualify as food). I also am turned off as soon as I hear about their having an Asian fetish. Nasty.

5) Sebas makes me feel old... I've also come to realize that as shallow as I feel this is, I'm not attracted to guys who I have to always drive around slash take care of constantly (picking up his friends, help running errands, diarrhea). He was right in a way when he talked about the confidence that comes with being the driver--metaphorically and literally. He's one of the people I've been spending a shitton of my summer with, which I love, but lately the more I think about it, the more sure I am of my negative interest in being anything more than homies with Sebas. We keep hearing that we act like a cute little old married couple, which I think is fucking awesome, and I just want to keep that chemistry exactly as it is forever. I also love that he includes me in all his plans as if I were one of the bros--it's nice being the only girl sometimes. But he never stops embracing that I am still a lady, which I appreciate. (As a bad example, he got a hell lot of satisfaction out of tapping my ass in front of his friends without getting slapped hahahah. We're so rough around the edges and ridiculous.)
But... finding his dirty socks in my car was repulsive.  
And him peeing in Cristian's bushes while I was there was another con. 
And him asking me for $2 worth of gas money the night we went to Maya's was a little turnoff-ish to me because I never ever ask any of him.
And the way he's scared of the dark can be funny and adorable in one context but so unattractive in another.

6) I love Rah, I really do, and I can't wait to play in the streets of NYC doing hoodrat shit together. Of all the guys I know, I confided in him most about my XSM days, and he is the only human who makes me breathless from laughing in tactful ways. Tonight, he sent me atrocious FB screenshots of XSM, and I swear I could've died happy. At one point, he said, "He looks like Michael Jackson circa the day of his death," and it hurt how fucking accurate it was.

This is only a tidbit of the shenanigans that have been filling my summery days and keeping me content. I've less than a week before RHD starts up, and my summer can only get better from there (even though I don't like having expectations!). I'm just soaking up all these positive vibes to feel ready for the months to come. Feelin' blessed.

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