Crushes on my friends boyfriends

I get crushes on nearly all of my friends boyfriends.  I can see what they see in them.  I can see why they like them so much.  I don’t want to date any of them – I’m not in love with them or anything like that, but I like hanging out with them.

It reminds me of being the cool aunt.  Someone who likes kid’s, but doesn’t want any of their own.  I like to play with babies, hug them, and make funny faces at them, but I don’t want to be their mother.  I don’t want to deal with the stress, and the giving of my life part of it.  I like to give back babies and boyfriends by the end of the day.

Are other people’s boyfriends just a way for me to have a vicarious substitution for the real thing?  Can they sustain my iridescent superfluous independence?

As the song goes, sooner or later love is gonna get ya.  I hope I’m not terrified when it does.

I become nervous and weak when I really like someone.  They have all the power over me and it frightens me to the point where I become mean.  I ignore them and look the other way.  I become cool and aloof because I’m scared of them.  Scared they can hurt me.

So I date people who I know would never hurt me.  They can never hurt me because I have the power over them, not the other way around.

This is why I don’t date much.  I avoid the people I can actually fall for and go for the guys who are easy to be with.  I go for the fun guys who lack the ability of leaving a hole in my heart in their absence.

But even the fun guys can hurt me when I see them with someone new.  It’s not their fault.  I just don’t like being left alone.  But I am alone.  I have to realize that I really am alone.

I come home to a house occupied by my parents, my aunt and my obsessive compulsive disordered cousin (I’ve never mentioned him before.)  I have no one other than my computer screen to embrace me in its warm enticing glow. 

I never think about this stuff very much.  It’s not a priority and I keep myself busy in my selfish endeavors.  It’s funny how I can type this and start to feel sorry for myself when only ten minutes ago I was completely content. 

The best question to ask is this:  Do I really want to be with someone?  Am I ready?  The answer is no.  I am not ready.  I can’t see past myself yet.  But I know for certain that when I am ready, there will be someone waiting for me.  Someone who I can entrust to keep my fragile heart.

And so I sit

laptop on lap

No longer feeling like a sap

I write my blog 

take my head outta the fog

Ruminating thoughts in my prolific monologue

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