Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Call Dr. Drew

I'm addicted.
Seriously, it's bad.

I wake up, wanting this drug. If I don't get some during the day, it's going to be a rough night. I am shaken from my sleep with extremely vivid dreams about my addiction. My personality is that of a constant user who knows how to get what she wants.

The highs are quick and fleeting. The lows can last for days.
I don't really drink.
I've never smoked anything in my life.

But when it comes to this, I am a freaking junkie.

I am addicted to... MEN.

It's the worst addiction out there. I ride the highs and lows of dating slash flirting each and every day.
I know I am a flirt. (I have known this for a very long time.)
I know I am a tease. (I mus've been born without a slutty bone in my body. Dangsies.)

So here I am, cooped up inside my own little world of addiction.
Round and round I go. Does he like me? Will he call? What does that mean? SHould I ask him out or wait for him to ask me out? Why hasn't he complimented anything about me except my boobs? Why won't he kiss me? blah blah blah....

Guys. You may not be able to relate to this. Or understand it at all. I don't expect you to. You are simple. And I have been told that I over think things.

Well, girls, you understand this right? How can I not constantly think about men? We all do. It's fun, most of the time. But sometimes...
Wait?! Was that a text message?God I hope it's from a boy. Oh but which one?

Doesn't really matter. I mean. I would like to get messages and calls from certain men in my life more than others. But when I going through withdrawal anything will do.

I recently joked with a girlfriend that I realized that men were my drug. I am not out whore-ing it up so I don't really think I need Dr. Drew. But when you walk into work one day, down and out and the only thing you can attribute to your grumpiness is the lack of men "oohing" and "aaahing" over you. Well then you know you've got a problem.
Or I have a problem I should say.

Or how about days when I bounce around and tell every other woman in my life about the current guy. Rarely oh so rarely a boyfriend. Truthfully most of them last just mere moments in my revolving door of men in my life.

It's sad when said women in my life recount a specific man and I cannot recall whom they are talking about.

I usually describe them in detail so they have only attributes to try and jog my memory. Sadly they don't have names.
The firefighter or
the geek soccer player or
the guy from Tech or
the 64 year old (which isn't actually an age of a person I've dated but my brothers have decided all the older guys I date(no older than 35 mind you) are no longer allowed a reasonable number for their ages, so it ranges from late 50's to early 80's.. it's awesome when they yell "wait you mean you're 75 year old?" , "Why yes brother, my 92 year old boyfriend and I are very happy together, thank you!"} (My family loves me)

So when I didn't get (and still haven't gotten)what I really wanted from the current guy, sure enough I turned around and there was a ripe 21 year old. He thinks we are gonna go out sometime. And I think he is just pretty to look at and I know he just wants to see me naked so I won't be pursuing anything with him. What I will do is use the attention I get from him to suffice while FP throws me for some more loops. Yeah I'm using one drug to hold me over until I get what I really want.

I've been called fun, and entertaining and the life of the party. But little does everyone know that my actions are equivalent to the itchy arms of a heroine user or the pacing back and forth outside of a dealers house.

So here I am, currently in a state of naught. Neither high nor low. I am trying to control the urges. I'm just gonna go to the gym. And make sure I wear a super tight super cute outfit so I get a glance or two. That should get me high enough today.

I'm a complete sociopath. Awesome.

...stay tuned.

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