The idea of me

 

VACUOUS PEOPLE..ewww.

The hard thing about not getting any answers is the fact you have to think of one. You have to come to grips with whatever the fuck just happened. You have to find your own peace. You have to create that shit. It's not the easiest thing to do. 

Driving home during a random March thunderstorm the flashes of light above illuminated the fog, and I was unable to gauge the distance or origin, I got scared for a moment. I rounded the corner, and the impending boom of a hellacious storm laid out before me. The sky darkened against the fog, and the rain picked up. If you would have told me this is how the apocalypse begins, I would have believed you. It was pretty shitty out. 

It matched how I felt. I've been feeling ragey angsty all week. A little column A... with existential dreadish type feeling, a little column B with exhaustion, sprinkled on a bit of depression, and the storm matched the mood. SPICY is what we've been calling this at work, and it fits. The static hot agitation of frustrations and the inability to exquisitely and precisely explain how your innards feel is a good way to define spicy. 

I've been so fucking spicy lately, and I'm not going to apologize for it. 

Most of it comes from my perception of how I'm viewed. I know, I shouldn't give a shit, but when it has come to dating it's kinda been a thing. I think dudes are more in LIKE with the idea of me, than the ACTUAL me. It swings both ways. I'm either too much in person, or not fucking enough. I'm either shy, which is temporary, or I'm too animated. Today I was lovingly called a Muppet, and I ain't mad about it, because it's kinda the truth. I grew up not really wanting to say much, but unfortunately for everyone around me, my face always told the tale. This bitch does not have a poker face. Again, no apologies will be made, but it's to your benefit and my detriment. Just like I wear that bleeding heart on my sleeve, I will always wear my emotions on my face. Good, bad or indifferent; whatever. But, this is me. Just like my muchness. People can either handle it or not. Some people see this quirky girl online and think that's me, 100% of the time. Listen, while I freely admit to that spaz that I am, it's not fucking constant. I am not an unlimited bucket of bullshit energy, and if I was, I'd be able to do a lot more things than what I'm capable of doing now. Conversely, when I'm quiet, it's not a forever thing. Well, unless I'm' really fucking depressed, then it's a longish thing. But that's for another time, barring/praying it never happens again. I have energy. It flows. It comes. It goes. NOT SORRY. 

Here's where it hurts. As I mentioned before, I really feel that people fall for the idea of me rather than me. Part of me understands this, and part of me doesn't. I get it in part because I sort of do this too, but isn't that what falling for someone is about? Thinking about the possibilities of what could be? Thinking about the 'what ifs' and 'what's gonna happen next' is delicious. This is usually where those crushes get stoked. Those spicy little fires start smoldering and the flames catch. 

But then there's the 'I don't get it' part. 

While I get this past year has been weird/stupid with dating, it never fails that when I met a dude in person, shit fizzles. Most of the time it was a 'you're different'. Well, no shit. You just met me. This half assed cognitive dissonance of what you've envisioned me to BE and what I am in that moment (or even a short timeframe) is exhausting. It's really made me look back on myself and say "what the hell is wrong with me?" The answer is..NOTHING. NOT A DAMN THING. This is me. My personal statement must then become "it sounds like a you thing, not a me thing." Followed by a shoulder shrug, and no apology. I'm not going to apologize. I make no excuses, for I am a 10 gallon type of gal. I love a lot. I have real feelings, I have lots of them. I think a lot. I dream even more. And when I say I care about someone, it's true. It's not some manufactured bullshit saccharin lie. I truly care. Perhaps this scares people. I don't know. But again, if you're scared of someone legitimately caring for you, that's a you thing, not a Kali thing. 

I kinda wish you could handle this, but I'm not going to pretend to be something I'm not. Maybe my muchness doesn't fill your cup, or perhaps it overfloweth. Either which way, it's me. 

no apologies

Don't throw it away