Sad Girl Hours Never End
A post of... dare I say... many?
My definition of sad girl (gorl) hours: That moment when, your brain somehow drifts to that line between consciousness and unconsciousness where your dreams of something more leave your heart sore and achey.
What could this possibly be referring to? Well how about I cut to the chase- I’m 18 years old and I’ve never been ~equally~ in love with someone. Now the key word here is *equally*. I’ve fallen in love before. I’ve fallen in love HARD. But the key word there is *fallen* as in face planted, ate shit, scraped knees, bruised skin plummeted right into the heart breaking ground. I’ve swan dived from a 15 foot high platform straight into the unforgiving dust... a few times. Every time, it has worked just barely out of my favor.
And while I’m at it, I do, of course, have to mention that, while it wasn’t reciprocated, I have indeed been the subject of certain adoration and plain old insignificant lust. And sure, that’s FANTASTIC, but never from the ones that I place myself so far in front of they have to exhale once to knock me over. And somewhere out there, if ever someone reads this, they are thinking to themself:
“What kind of person cries over none of the people loving her back? Meanwhile no one has ever even looked at me that way. WOW let me go cry her a river.” And dude, I feel you. I’m not blind to the fact that this oozes selfish, egocentric vibes. But come on, what else are sad girl hours for if not to lament over one’s own PaThEtIc prospects?
I guess all of this boo hoo bull shit is to say: Jeezus if I don’t find someone to love soon, I think this pit of despair will lose any hope of ever lessening the hole in my stomach that craves with all possible hope to be filled.