Today was an okay day... I mean, it wasn't a terribly awful day but I can't say that if I had a chance to re-live it, I would. Do you know what I mean? I'm sure that you've had those days where nothing horrible happened but that you were happy it was over. (Story of our lives, right?!)
So let us begin with the morning. I woke up in time for school but somehow ended up being late for class and that's never fun. The only seat that was available was next to this guy that I've talked to a maximum of three times. That may seem like a small detail but you should know that I'm infatuated with him to the extent that I think it may not even be healthy. In any case, I sat down next to him and made some small talk. Somehow, we ended up talking about the fact that he was in a band. I had seen a video of them covering Pink Floyd's very own Wish You Were Here. This is how our conversation went:
"I saw your cover."
"Really? What'd you think of it?"
"Honestly, before I watched it, I had mentally told myself that this song would make you or break you. It's a very classic tune and if you preform it, it better be good and I must commend you on a job well done. It wasn't the best cover I had ever heard but it wasn't half bad. It definitely made you. It was really good..."
And then I just continued on about nothing in particular. I was incoherent and probably boring. I can't even remember how I ended up stopping, I think he may have asked me to stop. Or maybe the class had started... Half-way through my ramble, I could hear a little voice in my head telling me to shut the fuck up, but I couldn't get my mouth to stop moving.
That's when the dissection started. Why did I sit next to him? Why would I say that he's not the best I ever heard? Why the fuck was I even talking to him?
This is the part where I dissect the conversation so much that it becomes a little deformed in my head. I block out some parts, guilt-trip myself about others and overall, make myself feel like a complete and utter idiot.
Why had I started talking to him? Shouldn't I have played it cool and waited for him to talk to me? Am I such an idiot that I cannot have a normal conversation with a boy? It could go on and on and on...
And then comes the despair. At this point, when I have gone over the conversation so many times that I can't find a new way to insult myself, I go on to telling myself that it's okay. It's okay because even if I hadn't fucked up, it wouldn't matter because no one could learn to love me.
Why would they? I'm a hyper-rational eighteen year old (except when it comes to myself) who acts like a forty-five year old. I'm incapable of taking a leap of faith, I have a very weird perspective on life and I am not even that pretty. I hate people, I have a lot of walls and I'm a faker. I don't believe in social norms nor the education system, yet not only do I conform to them, I excel at them. I mother people and I am extremely sensitive. That is but a short list of things that I despise about myself.

I think it goes without saying that I was in a bitter mood for the rest of the day. So, to sum up, I went to talk to a poor unsuspecting guy and, somehow, ended up completely destroying the last few shreds of my self-esteem. But hey, I didn't need them anyway!

And then I mother. I say it like that because I absolutely hate mothering but find that it's an impulse. For example, today I knew one of my friends hadn't eaten all day so I bought her a lunch and left in her locker for when she got out of class. I didn't do it to be sweet, I did it because I felt the need to do it. It hurts me to learn that someone isn't taking care of themselves.

Now that I've written all of this out, I feel kind of stupid. I feel really dumb. Holy shit, I feel like a simpleton. And you know what? Instead of going on a completely ridiculous angry rant about how dumb I am, I'm going to breath and get over it.

I am a good person. I am pretty, even if it is on the inside. I will not search for love from random guys who I barely know. I will grow. I will get past this.