So yesterday I talked insanely about my dating life. People would think of me as a non-sexual slut if they knew the numbers of guys I’ve been seeing in a short amount of time. I don’t even put myself in that situation where I think “tonight I’m gonna pick up a guy” – I’m just one of “the lucky ones” who just randomly finds herself dating some guy she met some random place in a pretty random time. Suddenly there’s just a guy and I don’t even know where he came from, but certainly not heaven or paradise.
Until I met one person, who tasted a bit like heaven. Or my idea of heaven. To be clear he was just great. I was randomly seeing two great guys, finding myself living through my favorite new order song “bizarre love triangle”. It was pathetic. So deeply pathetic to be caught in that situation, and I hope it never happens again. In a perfect world you just want to blend these two guys into a perfect blueberry smoothie and sip on it all day long, everyday in your life – but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. I would probably get arrested.
Back to the guy from my idea of heaven: I knew him from the start. You know. That’s the most powerful emotion you can experience in this shitty thing called life. It seemed so clear what to do, and yet I couldn’t give myself in. I fooled myself to believe I was in love, when probably I just was ovulating. When that happens every month I feel myself falling in love with everything: mangos, dresses, girls, rocks on the road – I can’t handle it.
So… the guy from heaven and I ended it. It randomly happened like everything else in my life. I thought I knew him, and a part of me still think I do, but the last time I saw him he was a completely stranger to me. Maybe because he limits himself or maybe because I finally got my period and saw things clearer than before. Who knows? Right now I just know than I’m moving back to my hometown to start some new drama on my new studies. How many boyfriends do you think I’m going to have? 2, 3 or 5? Let’s see – I’ll keep you posted.