I always try to think of myself as hard on the outside. The kind of hard that implies that when people hurt me, I don’t show it. I hide my pain and my hurt. I don’t particularly like expressing my feelings to others. I don’t really like taking about emotions period. But on the inside, I really do have feelings. Feelings like love, resentment, hope.

I have recently discovered something about myself which explains why most of the relationships I’ve had in the past have failed. As much as I lead myself to believe that all I really want is commitment, and a true relationship, once I get that relationship, I run away. I drop the relationship as soon as it comes. Then I end up regretting what I did. Every relationship I’ve been in has been ended by me. There are no past relationships in which I don’t regret what I did.

I built up the courage to send a long message to an old friend. Our relationship ended abruptly because I got nervous. He was a great guy. He was a very good friend. We would talk on the phone for hours, never once was there an awkward silence, or the oh so often, “so…” Our conversation flowed easily. I ended up inviting him over to my house, along with some of my other friends. We planned on watching as many star wars movies as we could. We watched, we flirted, he put his arm around me, and I leaned into his shoulder. Some how, we both ended up facing each other, and I was trying to deny the fact that I had a crush. “I know.” He said to me. From that point on, I guess, I retreated into myself. I walked him down to the lobby floor, and saw his father. I waved goodbye as he drove away, and that was the last day I talked to him. I don’t quite remember what was going through my mind that day. Or why it was that I freaked out. But I did. And because of that, I lost someone who I could really trust. Someone who was really a great friend.

The next relationship that causes me deep regret was over the summer. I met him through a friend, and he made me laugh. He smelled so good, and intoxicating that I could barely keep myself off of him. We got together, but during our short relationship we never saw each other. We talked on the phone, and texted every night. But I was always to nervous to actually go to the movies with him, or spend time with him. I didn’t know what was expected of me as a girlfriend. I thought that maybe I would be forced to have sex. So naturally, I ended the relationship. I was afraid. Now, every time I see him at school, those feelings of regret wash over me, hitting me like a wall.

I guess you could say that though I strive for simplicity, I am constantly on the look out for guys. I look for people that might like me. I might not be interested in them at first, but if they show any sign of interest, I come at them with raging hormones. This boy in my drivers-ed class for instance. I was initially interested in his friend, but I soon figured out that I really was only interested in his friends lips. I caught him looking at me every so often, and came to the conclusion that he was interested. So I played back. I looked up at him every time someone said a joke, or every time there was cause to look up. Sometimes we would catch each others eye. Today, while he held the door for me, he even bothered to look back and catch my eye, which I thought was significant.


I constantly complain about shallow girls who feed off of the small incremental things guys do. But to my alarm, I have somehow turned into one of those shallow girls. I take pride in telling people that I’m tough, that I play sports, and that I’m different from other girls. The truth, is that I am all of those things, but I’m also a girl underneath. Many of my guy-friends rate me as un-dateable, because of my boy-ish personality. I play video games with them, I play sports with them, I throw jokes around. I’m the type of girl they can be close to without having to worry about impressing me. One of my really good friends, Edward, has exhibited exactly what kind of relationship I will always have with men. An old best friend of mine dated him, and she was always jealous of our relationship. I was the girl he had fun with, and she was the girl he fought with. My cousin ended up being the girlfriend of a boy who had a friend who played the fun girl. She complained to me, asking me if it was okay for her to be mad at him for telling his friend something he didn’t tell her. What did I have to say? “I am that friend, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

I’ve come to understand, that somehow, no matter who it is I am with, or who the boy is, I am not good enough. I am always second place, the silver medal. I have never once come in first when it comes to me and some other girl. As crazy as it may seem, I have come to accept that. In my book, accept means acknowledge, and then ignore. I still feel the hurt, and the agony of coming in second again, but as I have described earlier, I hide it, so no one else has to deal with my emotions. So they don’t have to force the words, “are you okay? Are you sure?” I would rather secretly wallow in my own pity, than put someone in the place of forcing sympathy.

My dream guy? I have multiple variations. I like the insensitive men. The jerks who hide their feelings. My favorite example of this, is Steven Hyde from That 70’s show. I have a friend much like him, but they are different in one way. That one way, is also the key to having a relationship with my friend which I know will never happen. Steven Hyde shows his teenage infatuation with women, while my friend hides all signs of feeling anything for women. Whether that sign is saying “she’s hot,” or anything of the sort. He refuses. This is the reason I will never have a relationship with my friend.

Most young girls dream of romantic scenarios with their future partner. I’m almost completely different in that way. I despise romance. I find it cheesy, and fake. I wouldn’t deny someone of a romantic date, but truly I would feel uncomfortable throughout the whole thing. I prefer situations which are found in an everyday life. I’m not very high maintenance, and so when I think of romantic dates, I feel they are forced just to please high maintenance girls. If someone took me out on an extremely romantic date, I would question whether they really know who I am.

People ask me time and time again why I don’t write my feelings down. Why I don’t write realistic fiction where there is a girl similar to me. She would therefore have the same problems, the same hopes, the same hobbies, and the same relationship problems with men. The only difference, would be that she would, in the end, get the man of her dreams. I don’t write about my feelings so that when I read over a story, or novel, I am not reminded of a time in which my life wasn’t so great. Instead, I write fantasy. Fantasy for me, coats and hides all the feelings I put into my writing. So in a way you could say that I do write about my feelings, but I keep them hidden under magic, and witchery. I hide them because I want people to enjoy the writing, not the conflicted emotions of a teenage girl.

What I tell people if they want to know who I am, is to read my stories. In every story, and novel I’ve written, there is a part of me described in depth. But to those not looking for it, it is invisible. To those who are, it is as plain as day.