The Book Is Closed.

This blog once served a purpose. It was started as a way to express the love I had for someone who I intended fully to spend a lifetime with.
Plans do not always go how we intend, and as I have closed the chapter of my life that involved him, I have chosen to end this blog here.
The new chapter has begun.

"Dude. She Wants the D."

It would appear to me that I have missed something. I'm not sure where, but I did. You see, as a child, I was brought up to say please and thank you. To say "You're welcome."  To have these crazy things we referred to in my house as "manners."
However, those sneaky, conniving people I call my parents who were supposedly teaching me to be a decent human being never told me that secretly they were teaching me how to be a flirtatious strumpet!
Yes. That's right. All of this saying "Hello" and being taught to genuinely want to know how someone is doing when I ask, it's all been a ruse! A clever one to lure the opposite sex in.
And not just me. All men and women, apparently, are doing this. Polite conversation? Pssh! A likely story. A mere cover up for intentions far less honorable.

Or... OR...

Now just give me a second, hear me out here... Maybe, just maybe...when I say "Hi, how are you?" I'm simply asking a question. Being polite. Trying to not be rude and seem disinterested. Maybe I care about how someone is doing because they look down, or because I heard they'd been unwell.
How is it we can so easily misconstrue such simple conversation into something so much more than it is? Why can companions of the opposite sex not accept that, just because you share similar interests or enjoy their company or polite conversation,t that does not in any way, shape, nor form mean that you desire to be anything more than just a friend?

Women are one thing. Sorry, ladies, but you and I both know that from a young age we have society, movies, and nearly any adult in the world telling us that if a boy talks to us, he must like us. Or if he is mean to us, he must like us. Or if he ignores us, he's probably shy and likes us. The world revolves around us and we're told every boy, logically, must think we are their Aphrodite. No way that they're just being boys who haven't even hit the age yet that they think anything past "cooties" when they see us. Nope. We are the proverbial center of their little universe.
Then we let those stupid, infantile thoughts simmer on the back burner during adolescence and adulthood and boil over occasionally. Which makes a mess.
Women like to envision that any attention or kindness that someone male gives them must mean the man is madly in love with them. Beyond the opposite of true, ladies. Men are not like us. Men can see us as just a human being with funbags attached and nothing more. They don't even see some of us as a sexual being because fact is, they friendzone us in their own way. They see us as a friend-only, for whatever reason, and that is that. (Yes, gentlemen, that's right. You friendzone too.)

And men, you always want to say we're the ones who assume or get emotional, but clearly not. Speaking from experience, you guys can make things just as awkward and messy as any female. Infact, sometimes more awkward, because when we get blown off, we just get hurt and disappear. You guys like to linger and hope we'll change our minds. (In which case I begin to refer to you as a Stage V Clinger, and I begin to think of ways to get rid of you. Which is hard for me because I suck at being mean.)

In short, just because someone is thoughtful, polite, or using their head and heart to think of you doesn't mean they picture you naked or hear church bells when you're around.  It doesn't mean they are dreaming of picking daisies with you and scribbling your name on notebooks.  It may just mean they're a decent human being.  If you want to know if it's more than that, then ask. But don't assume, and whatever you do, don't make it weird.

You Can't Stop the Feeling and There's No Reason, Let's Make the Call and Take It All Again...

I have spent my life being a back up plan. A second choice. I have always been the girl who was amazing to be friends with, but not attractive enough to date. So my friends would chase the hot girl, sometimes catch her, and then when she would drag their heart through the mud I was still the one they'd lean on and I'd be right there to help them through it.
I had no ulterior motive, just a heart that pours out to those who seek love and don't receive it back as eagerly as they give it out. I know what that is like, and so I empathized and tried to provide solace and caring for them. I'd give advice when asked and be the best friend I could be to anyone.
And in far too many cases, after they'd been chewed up and spit out, they'd come back in their emotionally vulnerable state and suddenly I was good enough to show the attention to. Suddenly me not being the 10 didn't matter as much because I was a human being and didn't abuse them as she had. I was a decent plan B when plan A fell through.
...And I was supposed to be flattered by that, apparently.
Why should I be flattered to be a second choice?  Why should my heart be set a-flutter by the fact that someone thinks it's alright to settle on me?
I'm not to be settled for. I will never be a second choice. A back up. A plan B.
If I am not good enough to be the one someone works for, then I'm not going to be good enough to stand by when things get tough.
I may not be the 10 in the miniskirt, but I'm happy over hear in my own skin being the best person I can be and that person, for someone, is THE plan. No back ups necessary.