zoofreak

From me: Love will always find you no matter how weird you are; and if it doesn’t, you’ll always find something to keep you occupied.

I never thought I’d be such a success with people. Well, not really a big-blockbuster / earth-shaking / glass-shattering success, but at least accepted in a really positive manner. As I make my way up the stairs, I thought about the “me” outside, about not being such a success I am here.

For a while I’ve liked this person very much, but he liked someone else who also likes someone else. Anyway, there was a time we became close and he told me I may have a chance with his heart. Boy, did that give me hope and happiness! (Okay, I’m being sarcastic here) It actually brought me down. I thought: “Am I that desperate to actually beg for affection?” It hurt my pride, it hurt me all over; because no matter how hard I try, I’ll always be just a second choice; never the first, never the only one.. the second.

Okay, I admit I’m not a big –, not even a bit of a success in romance, but I try to keep myself afloat by not letting that affect my “image” of being a weirdo / mutant / really friggin’ cool and awesome character. And I definitely do not try too hard to be wanted and liked. My philosophy has always been “don’t look at me.. sure, as if I care” or something like that. And so, even after he broke my heart again, I pretended it did not hurt one bit. But inside, I know I was crying silently.

NO. I am not devastated. I am not angry. I am not bitter. I’ve always known, from the moment he told me that he liked someone else, that if there ever was a chance, I would still be just the second choice, and that when the first choice comes around, my place will just be at the background. It is so troublesome, these feelings.

I’m glad that I am quite popular here, in this place where they seldom encounter a unique person such as me. People actually call me Miss, and listen to me, and admire me. Imagine that! Maybe I can be liked, maybe I can be a success, and maybe I can be a first choice and not just a second, in some other place, in some other circumstance. Maybe there will be a time in my life I wouldn’t look so desperate, wouldn’t seem too pathetic, wouldn’t have to beg for attention, and where I can be myself and look slammin’ / awesome / rocking on.

Then maybe I wouldn’t feel sorry anymore for being his second choice. After all, he’s just one person. There had been lots who had broken my spirit, lots who have sort of worn me down. But at least in those I got zilched, and not just shunted aside to be some reserve. I got zero and not a negative 1 to which he will add a positive 2 whenever he felt like it.

I am not content in being second. I thought I am more than this, I thought I’m not this self-centered. I’d have to admit now that I was wrong. But I cannot be blamed or flamed for this. Because anyway, who would want to be “just a second choice”?!

This entry was posted on Saturday, March 1st, 2008 at 10:56 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.