I'm an obsessive person. We all know that. I have the power to transform something little and useless into a big part of my life. That's good, sometimes, because feeling too much can also be productive. I mean, being able to make each moment important is what makes an amazing life. But some other times, it brings me down. Because some things are probably meant to stay where they belong, somewhere where nobody, not even me, can find them. Just like that kiss on Friday should have stayed there, on Friday, in that nightclub, and never find its way out. But we are talking about myself here, and nothing stays where it belongs. I let everything out, and I over-think each little thing that comes to me. At some point it gets confusing, where I don't even know how I feel anymore. Because, why can't I stop thinking about it? Why am I thinking about a guy who probably doesn't give a shit about that night? Why did that guy, who I didn't even know, change so many things in my mind?
It scares me. What scares me? Everything. Because I know me, and I know love, and I know how I function with love. I mean, love and I? No, we don't work together. We are like salt and water. I'm the kind of girl who gets herself a gift for Valentine's Day. I'm the kind of girl who never gets the boy she wants. Now what am I talking about? Do I want this boy? Do I really like him? That's the problem. Who the hell knows? Why was that kiss so perfect? I mean, right there, that moment when I was kissing him, where I just stopped giving a fuck about everything else. Why, out of 4 other guys, he was the one that brought earthquakes to my heart? He made me feel Niall Horan, and I mean the real one, didn't matter anymore. He, with just one kiss, was able to throw Morgan, Sam, Cody, Jake, Jason, Mason, and whoever into a trash called "past". I mean, I've been trying to do that for days, months, years. I used songs, movies, quotes, blogs, Grey's Anatomy, Glee, One Direction, tumblr, WeHeartIt, everything! I used everything to forget them all, and none of those techniques worked. Now he came and just turned my world upside. My question is... does that mean something? The fact that I can see Jake right now and not give a shit, DOES THAT MEAN SOMETHING?
But once again, who cares if it means something. Because he probably doesn't wanna talk to me again. And whatever that happened on Friday, is probably over and in the past for him. He is not going to care about how I felt when he looked at me with those beautiful eyes. He is not going to care how I felt when he kissed me either. He is a boy, he is not going to care about anything, just like all of them. Because that's what guys do, they just don't care. Yes, he talked to me the next day to say sorry for being so drunk. He didn't say anything else. Ok, cool. What can I do? Wait for him to talk me again just like I used to do with every single asshole? Naah, what a waste of time. I can't even talk about this with my friends because I know what they are going to say: "it was just a kiss, and he was drunk". I know they are going to say that because that's also what my mind says. All of the previous sweet things before the kiss just fade away and all I'm left with is nothing. N O T H I N G. Absolutely nothing. Is it surprising? Not at all. Is it unexpected? Please, no. Is is disappointing, is it frustrating? Maybe. Does it hurt? A little. Or maybe more than a little.
I know that at least it happened, unlike with Sam or Morgan or whoever. At least there was a moment where I had him. It didn't last for long, but it is something. The problem is, once you get a little, all you want is MORE. It is like when you are hungry and someone gives you a bite of a McDoanld's burger, just ONE SINGLE BITE. After that, your stomach is going to realize that it is hungrier than what your brain thought it was, and it is going to ask for more. Sadly, every single organ in our body works that way, including our heart. We get a little, and want M O R E. Is it ever enough? No! The more you get, the more you want. "There's something about the possibility, of more. More tequila, more love. More anything. More is better. There's something to be said about a glass half full, about knowing when to say when. I think it's more of a floating line, a barometer of need. Of desire. It's entirely up to the individual, and it depends what's being poured. Sometimes all we want is a taste. Other times there's no such thing as enough, the glass is bottomless... all we want is more". And there you go, if Meredith Grey said it, now you probably believe me.
How do I feel after writing this post? Exactly the same. Because there is nothing to analyze here, nothing to think about. This is not about possibilities, not about fate, not about chances. I don't even know what this is about. I don't know where I'm going with this either. And the worst thing is that the problem is myself. I need to be able to make out with guys without falling in love with them later. I need to be able to handle those eyes, those smiles, those hands, those.... I JUST NEED TO FUCKING DEAL WITH THOSE THINGS. I can't write a post like this every time a playboy grabs my hand, takes me somewhere else, and kisses me. I need to be strong.
But the final, and most important question, after everything you've just read, after everything that has happened, after all of the stupidity I have just admitted... the question is... do I like him?
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