When your words mean nothing, I go la la la.

I seriously need to get over myself. You’d think that by now I would have learnt that some things never change –  that people don’t see me the way I see myself. Or that they just don’t see me, period. But there’s always that niggling little voice at the back of my head that says : Maybe this time it’ll be different. It never is. 

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I feel really stupid having taken the time to craft a polite reply out of consideration for your feelings, when I could have given a curt ‘no’ or ignored you. Was it too much to expect that someone finally genuinely liked me? Apparently so. I’m not an option. I’m not someone you should ‘try your luck’ with, because from what I’ve heard, you’re playing the numbers game and while your bravado is applaudable, it’s frankly not fun being a target. Especially when you’re a 20-year-old girl who has never been asked out before. 

It makes you question if you’re always going to be ‘just another girl’. Not someone special who fascinates, but merely just someone who exists. I’m fighting a losing battle here. I honestly think that I’m more attractive to potential employers than guys in general. Which is why I’m always going to put my career first. & I hope that I will be rewarded in time to come…that the dots will connect down the line, and I will know why I’ve never had a typical teenage/young adult experience. 

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If you had bothered to pay a little more attention, you would’ve realised that my lack of faith in a higher power is evident. It’s not something I explicitly state, because people do tend to have negative impressions of the non-religious for some reason. To be honest, I share a lot of similar values with my religious friends – I daresay I’m even more conservative than some. 

A running gag in the dramedy/sitcom that should be my life is that I somehow always end up liking guys who are religious. It’s gotten so that my friends can bet with 100% certainty that the next crush will also be a religious person. I’m tolerant to a point I guess – but once you cross the line, I feel like it’s hard to even be friends with you. It’s like in the back of your mind you’ve branded me as a condemned soul or a potential soul-to-be-saved, and in the back of mine I’m wondering how you can believe in something we’re not even sure exists. 

Even when people try to set me up with guys jokingly, they ask if I’m Christian and say aww man, too bad when I tell them that I’m not. As though I lucked out. But:

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Chelsea always asks me if I’m still single whenever I return to the office, and I was like : “Eternally…you don’t have to ask that the next time, the answer will still be the same.” I just feel like it’s as pointless a question as asking me what my gender is (although even that may be debatable, after doing my Gender Studies readings) . 

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I just watched “How Your Mother Met Me” though, and it was so beautiful. I know most people sobbed because of The Mother’s dedication to her dead boyfriend, but I almost teared up because she was so perfect for Ted. Like she was so near and yet so far, and I love that idea. I love the idea of living your life independently while simultaneously being connected to the love of your life in ways you couldn’t even begin to guess. & as I learnt in The Social Construction of Romantic Love, it’s probably series like HIMYM that shape my idea of what love should be like. & if my story isn’t going to be that epic, then I’d rather not fall in love, silly as that may sound. 

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