there is a hole inside the box above my head
2006-09-29, 1:03 a.m.

I decided I'm gonna adhere to the proper conventions of writing in the English language and capitalize.

What a milestone.

So at the moment there's this very interesting trend happening to all my friends.

It's the "Crazy Boy Is Obsessed With Me But I Could Not Have the Least Interest In Him and He Won't Get the Message" trend.

Either luckily or unfortunately, this trend has skipped clean over me, but it's very interesting to see how each debacle unfolds. Sadly I am unable to offer any advice to Said Friends, because ::cough:: um that's actually ::cough:: never happened to me.

I know, right? That's like, some kind of integral part of adolescence, isn't it? Being the center of some weirdo's unwarranted affection? Having a completely undesirable semi-stranger misinterpret your every move and collect strands of your hair and keep a Love Journal about you? Wondering why the object of your own unwarranted affections can't suddenly take a swig of whatever Creepy McStalkerson is drinking? It's this universal cause of agony that seems to happen to everyone at one point. Alas, my adolescence is slowly but surely winding down, and this has yet to occur. This should be a good thing, right? I shouldn't be upset about a LACK of an insipid, unwelcome admirer?

There's just... the underlying fact that this guy, or girl, whoever, likes you. Someone found you so special or important or interesting that they can't keep themselves away. Since this never happened to me, I still romanticize it like this. It reminds me of, you know, Laura, on Family Matters, who spent her teenage years trying to escape the advances of Urkel, but ultimately, she realized he really cared about her and admired her.

It still really stresses me out that for my whole life, I've... well, I've been Creepy McStalkerson. I've been the one misinterpreting signals. Is there a gene for "pursuers" and "pursued"? Did I miss some sort of class on how to attract the opposite sex by simply standing around? Am I missing the pheromone that alerts males to my existence? Have I been emitting the odor of Eau d'Ranch Doritos for my whole life without knowing it?

It's not like I'm desperate for a relationship--I'm definitely way past that stage. For a couple months I'd been pretty content about my boyfriend-less plight. I was beginning to think that maybe I'd matured enough to put certain other things first, like friendships and my schoolwork and career goals. And honestly, I'm not finding any decent guys to crush on, anyway. It's just, with all that's going on around me, with my friends, it's hard not to think about it.

I think Nick Hornby said it better than I could: "It seems to me that if you place music (and books, probably, and films, and plays, and anything that makes you feel) at the center of your being, then you can't afford to sort out your love life, start to think of it as the finished product. You've got to pick at it, keep it alive and in turmoil, you've got to pick at it and unravel it until it all comes apart and you're compelled to start all over again." - High Fidelity

But maybe the reason I can't get a guy is the fact that I regularly make analogies to 90's SITCOMS. Sigh.

I think it's time for sleep.

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