I think (hope) that in real life I come across as confident. I scold the girl at work for trying to cover her freckles, I tell people to trust their own judgement instead of seeking it in internet videos, I consistently annoy my flat mate with my opinions. I am generally a strong character who knows what she thinks and I don't like to stop people thinking what they think or change what they think. I comfortable in my own attitude.
But to be perfectly honest I'm quite sure I'm hideously over compensating. I have written before about over thinking both in published and unpublished posts because part of the over thinking is writing down every notion I have like my computer is interested. My neuroticism is heady and ridiculous, it pops up at the wrong time and has the worst ideas possible. It tells me that publishing a piece about walking home practicing a text I would send when I got home OUT LOUD would be a fantastic idea. It tells me that writing down every whim I possess is incredible and loveable and not irritating or distracting from every day life.
I'm pretty sure that everyone important in my life is more important to me than I am to them. This is not self deprecating, I am not fishing for compliments. I would tell you if I was fishing, because its obvious and I like compliments. But its true, I just don't think I'm all that important. I am one person's bestfriend but thats is just a title, he sees and loves people on a far more regular basis than me and I think he is more my best friend than I am his. I am absolutely without a doubt always on the out skirts of a group. When I was at school, the boys were the focus of our group. The girls were and remain brilliant but for some reason I always felt that I was neither part of the boys or the girls and that I was more interested in being one of the boys than I was being a part of the girls. When I was at college I was kind of a part of many groups, nerds, cool nerds, emos, I was in them all. But I was never an important part of them. For example, my friend Maggie was an intrinsic part of the close knit group that I was kind of an add on to. They all are fabulous human beings and I love them very much but I either weirded some of them out or some were just apathetic to me. At University I was party of a very small group of friends and was finally important. I had people who loved me and thought I was significant and found to my dismay that it is not the role for me. When I am important, I get power hungry and I screw people over without quite knowing it until its all over and I realise how horrific I have been. Apologies to both Kate and Sophie who felt the brunt of this and I still think about when I feel like I should be more important to people.
I know this boy. He will definitely read this. I'm in two minds about writing what I am clearly going to but he was the one who gave me the half a wine glass of gin that got me writing again so lets get to it. We met in a place where I'd never think of meeting someone and I don't think I ever will again. H ehas become a really good friend of mine in a way that the people you've only known for 3 months can. We were mutually confused by each other's intentions for like a month and a half. He thought I wanted him to be my boyfriend and so consequently didn't speak to me for a fortnight at a time. I thought he wanted to be my friend so was completely baffled by this behaviour. So we got drunk, on my bed. I told him that I didn't want a boyfriend, we both agreed however that we wanted to bone each other. I'm drinking more gin now, so I get to use bone as an adjective. We had sex and then a week later, drunk on my bed, he tells me he's not going to have sex with me. His reasons were perfectly valid and I agreed to the new terms of our weird friendship but now I am... confused? No, pensive. I'm pretty sure now, about a month later, that he no longer wants to have sex with me and that he is no longer sexually attracted to me. Now in some ways this is good, it avoids the outcome he was trying to avoid. The issue: I'd still like to have sex with him.
Just as aside, I'm definitely thinking about not posting this now.
I was never scared of what he was scared of and I enjoyed having someone actively interested in having sex with me. I'd say the issue may be 40% ego. I enjoyed having a plutonic friend who thought I was sexy and now I'm pretty sure I don't have that and it kind of smarts. This is the kind of neurotic nonsense that means I text most of the male friends I have asking them if they think I'm sexy.
I'm definitely everyone's favourite friend.
The biggy though, the most debilitating and horrendous neuroses of all is what if I'm not good at writing any more? I have been putting off and putting off coming back to the blog because I've been tired and over emotional and unable to have the kind of fire that usually fuels this thing but most of all I'm terrified that the people who tell me I'm good or the people who tell me I'm funny are humouring me. I'm terrified of being tolerated and that is most prevalent in my writing because this is something I think I'm good at and if I'm not then what the fuck do I have?