loner girl monologues

my monologues are really dialogues. in my head i have conversations between characters that i have created or are based off of myself, characters who feel more like friends than real people.
it was easy to hide behind scripted words in my head in high school; i was never forced out of my comfort zone. then suddenly at college, i was living on my own. i made my own schedule. the opportunities to meet new people were endless.

i find myself stumbling over words. in my head, i greet enthusiastically and flash a smile expecting the other person to engage me in an intellectually in response. when writing, every conversation has a purpose. even filler details can be subtle clues to personality or foreshadow events. life can’t be controlled like that.

it’s hardest with the people i love. i don’t share what i am thinking; it comes out awkward because i pause frequently doubting the necessity to open op. “Are you…going to..wish your ex..for her birthday?” i knew i should’ve just donned my resting bitch face and seem nonchalant.

but that facade is only a mere glance image. i keep to myself but i’m eager to laugh and mean it when i bid “have a wonderful day!” to everyone. those actions are mine to control. it’s when i cannot expect reactions to what i have to say, i do not handle my disappointment well.

in my head i hoped he’d say no, he’d forgotten. in my head i hoped he’d shrug and say “maybe, but i’m here with you right now. that’s all i want to think about.”

basically anything but him gushing about how talented she is at voice acting and how he’d want to work on a project with her.

my thoughts jarred; there was not a singular coherent feeling to express. rather, bottled up, my first reaction was to split. he’s not good enough for me, i deserve to be the only center of his attention! 

blame it on me being a Leo.
even a loner likes to twirl in the sun. we don’t like seeing eyes on us, but knowing they may be there? awesome.

i wasn’t happy but after almost a whole day of moping, i realized it’s my choice to let it go. my love is with me. he chose me over her. he didn’t gush, he was being practical about utilizing a talent of a friend. is it his fault that i cannot be friends with my exes? no.

in the world that exists within my head, it’s easy to plan out the perfect romantic dialgoues – and the best revenge scenes. that’s really how i ended my moping today: imagining myself staring at my love before pulling up on the side on the highway and waving, “boy, bye.” he’d have to walk ten miles home! i realized that wouldn’t give me satisfaction at all because i indeed do love him.

since i strictly watch and read things that have a guaranteed happy ending (life’s too melodramatic for me to spend hours crying over Titanic and Old Yeller), i know my fair share of promising cheesy lines to believe in oneself and fight for love. loner girl here spends too much time trying to come up with original heartfelt words that aren’t too cliche. candidness is never a response i see coming; the one thing that gets me every time in reality.

my love is my first dating relationship. twenty-two and so late in the game, it’s going to take time for me to process and accept the natural ebb and flow of real dialogue that does not give me what i want to hear. eventually, hopefully i’ll truly appreciate his honesty like i say i do.

until then, if i see people break into dance moves and songs i’ll know it’s time to pinch myself awake.

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dear

r oasting marshmallows in the microwave
i n the night, i name my body pillow you
c an you please sing to me already?
h ome is what i am building for us
i n the tedious savings i collect from the
e xpectations i meet chipping away my soul,

i ‘m grateful for our one hour dates

l ittle deal you make of almost eighteen months
o h on the contrary, i’m giddy
v ictorious we work to be over
e ach hurdle – family, distance, schedules

y esterdays are
o ne day closer to
u nited again