l i l e p h y t e


September 16th, 16:46 | On my mainstream-trend wannabe tendencies...

I get the distinct feeling that something is wrong. Something is missing. It's not that we fight, or just irritate each other or anything like that. We fit entirely too neatly, like small, efficient packages, into each other's schedules and spend pleasant, quiet moments together. ...it just feels wrong anyway.

I don't know why it's nagging at me; I always like the comfortable, quiet feeling. I want someone to be excited about me, though, I want to be with someone who can't wait to see me again. Which makes no sense. You don't get to wish for that after about the first month, right? After the glowy period they always show in movies is over?

I'm tempted to say that I feel (somewhat ridiculously?) like I'm mourning the "over"-ness of the Hollywood phase of the relationship, and am having trouble settling into the Real World, solid, good part of it, but the truth is that I feel like I never had the Hollywood part to begin with. There was some vague chasing (mostly due to scheduling conflicts), and then an almost immediate settling. Maybe I'm tired of being settled (or not ready yet). Or maybe I just want to feel desired, to feel that I'm worth a chase. How sad, my need for constant external validation.

(Somewhat on that note, did someone buy herself lingerie today? Yes. But it was $40 for a set... that's a reasonable price, right? For matching, lacy bra + pants? *sigh* Why do women (ahem, by which I mean me) need overpriced underwear to feel covet-able?)

Perhaps it's because I've been feeling a little un-special lately that my usually-dormant obsession with scrapbooking has cropped up again. I was toying with the idea of creating a book of Actual Date-Date Nights, partly for fun, partly so there'd be a physical reminder that, Look, we behaved like people who only paid attention to each other, once, but then I remembered that I have no photos (count 'em, none) of us together, or even of us apart. Puts a slight dent in those particular plans.

That hasn't quelled the scrapbooking urges though. I keep thinking about my shoebox full of pictures, of the whole "bear" series of photos from Ireland, so many scrap-able (look, I'm using hip scrapbooking lingo...) ideas. I'm terrified of letting myself near a crafts store while in this state, yet... it'd be fun, wouldn't it? And cute and kitschy and...?

This is why you need to pay attention to your high-maintenance, neurotic girlfriends, guys. Because otherwise they turn into vaguely nostalgic, slightly frantic, wannabe scrapbookers. And that's just sad.


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