it's time to get personal

so, I’m 24. I’ve been out of college for 3 years this May. it’s a weird feeling, but simultaneously feels completely natural. I can’t imagine going back now. I love my apartment too much and not having to study or write papers (grad school obviously is not ever going to see this face). I struggle a lot with whether or not to get super personal on my blog. I mean, it IS my blog after all. I should be able to write whatever the hell I want on here, regardless that people I work with and am friends with read it. that’s the risk you take when you want to write and want people you know to read and enjoy your stuff. most of the time, I’m goofy, sarcastic, ridiculous, insane, costume-wearing emma on here. but today, I’m gon’ get REAL.

here’s where I stand in life right now: working for a seriously awesome company with a seriously awesome boss who is sometimes more a friend than a boss (which can get awkward when she has to reprimand me, which obviously RARELY happens), still wanting to write for a living more than 4-year-olds want to eat candy for every meal, and continuously trying to figure out how to be a “young adult” because this shit isn’t easy.

take dating for example. or should I say THE WORST THING EVER? real world dating baffles me beyond anything that’s ever baffled me before. it confuses me more than pre-calculus did (i dropped out) or the fact that Ryan Gosling can’t see how perfect him and I are for each other.

my first attempt at “real world” dating was sort of a huge failure. started out like a movie, like what people yearn for in their love lives. I was on cloud nine thinking “this can’t be real. it’s too good and too intense. can this really be happening to me?” I had no idea this stuff actually happened in real life. a few times, I even had to rest my head on my desk to gain composure from the overwhelming feelings of YESSSSS! he said and did all the right things and made me feel incredible. but then, as most “happened too fast, too soon” stories go, the guy did a 180. a flip switched in his head and all of that intensity disappeared like it had never been there. I don’t know why for sure, but I have my assumptions. and just like that, it was over.

now, you will be happy to know I was the one who opted out of that situation and I can honestly say I’m proud of myself for it. sad? yes. but proud in a twisted way. young, naïve emma would’ve stuck around, waiting for god knows how long for him to revert back to how he was, clinging to any crumb he decided to drop on the floor for me. but this time, I actually listened to my gut (which I can be really good at ignoring) and knew it was better to cut my losses sooner than later.  as hard as it was to do and no part of me WANTED to do it, I knew I was too unhappy with what the situation had turned into and had no other choice -- it fucking sucked.

oh did I mention I work with him? yeah, it’s fine.

shortly after this happening, I somehow ended up chit chatting with my ex-boyfriend. when I say ex-boyfriend, I mean legit ex-boyfriend. dated for 3 years and just broke up in July. my choice, my decision. it was rough when it happened and we’ve had little to no contact for these 6ish months. but, silly me, feeling nostalgic, reached out. was he happy to hear from me? of course. was he nice as ever? totally. is he now dating someone? yup. it’s always an incredibly odd feeling when your ex moves on – even if it's a silly fling and barely anything serious. it still makes you cock your head to the side, raise one eyebrow, and vomit a little in your mouth. I swallowed a lot harder than I ever thought I would when he let me in on that bit of information. did I pull her name out of him? yep. did I look her up? duh. did I make snap judgements? I mean I DO have a vagina. look, I broke up with him and he deserves to bone girls and try and be happier, but it doesn’t mean it’s not weird to know it’s actually happening and feel incredibly odd about it.

I guess it boils down to this: I’m sick of people being proud of me for “getting out of things.” I'm tired of having to "be smart." it’s nice to hear when your friends and family are proud of you for being true to yourself, of course, but I’m worn out on “calling things off.” I want to be IN something and for it to be fantastic. I don’t want to dig my way out of another male-related situation. it's wearing and depressing and makes you kinda lose hope sometimes.

I’m the type of chick with too much affection to give, and when it sits stagnant for too long, I end up weirdly petting my girlfriends or hugging them a bit too much because I don't know what else to do with it. I was born to give that affection out and when I don't have a focal figure to lay it on, I don't function properly.

I know I wasn’t cut-out for a fairy tale anything. that’s not the sort of person I am. I question, analyze and think about everything way too much to ever have a prince/princess sort of situation. my gut tells me I will have to deal with a few more assholes, idiots, nice guys who just don't have "it" and emotional fuckwits before I find the right person – I’m not happy about it, but I can’t fight it. I just got-tah have faith. although it can absolutely suck most of the time and make you question yourself and what you bring to the table as a human, you grow. it’s true – the more you go through and learn what you will and won’t put up with, the more you know yourself and will be true to yourself.

I know it'll all even out one day... I think. I hope. I just wanna make out and cook dinners for you - is that so much to ask?

I’ll end this entry with my favorite excerpt from Mindy Kaling’s book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (and other concerns). if you haven’t bought it, do so now. if you have and haven’t read it yet, what are you waiting for?:

I'm the kind of person who would rather get my hopes up really high and watch them get dashed to pieces than wisely keep my expectations at bay and hope they are exceeded. This quality has made me a needy and theatrical friend, but has given me a spectacularly dramatic emotional life.

at least i'll always have a story, right? and wine. i'll always have wine.

- emma

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