Done with love

I’m just fed up with the whole business.  The wishing, the waiting, the wanting something you can never have.  Giving yourself hope, convincing yourself that there are possibilities, that there’s a chance.  There never is.  It’s always all in my head.  And I’m so good at believing the lies I tell myself.  I can spin a story to cover any eventuality.  He doesn’t talk to me for three months?  Well, that’s because (insert customized but entirely ludicrous reason that proves he likes me anyway here).  No.  It doesn’t work like that.  All the signs, the flirtations, the little things that make me think it could happen–they’re all in my head.  None of them really exist.

Would it really be worth it anyway?  Is it really so great, to have a boyfriend, to be in a relationship?  Would it add so much to my life?  Would it take away so much sorrow?  Would it stop me from being lonely?  Maybe it would.  But maybe it wouldn’t.

I went out to Kimmel tonight with a bunch of people from the show — Sharone, Laura Jane (our stage manager), Brody, Michael, Claire, Paul and Robbie.  They’re all really good friends, and Laura and I were kinda outsiders.  I warmed my way into the conversation, eventually, and relaxed enough to have a good time; Laura barely said a word all evening.  But there’s something going on between Robbie and Sharone.  I don’t know if that’s just the nature of their friendship, that they have this very up-front sexual flirtation happening, but it was kinda hard to miss.  I would just assume that it was routine for them, there were several things that Sharone said today that I don’t know if she would have said were she actually with Robbie, or even interested in Robbie, but there was something Brody said…he asked if they were to phase three yet, and Robbie said they weren’t going to talk about that now…and it could easily have been a joke, it slipped so easily into the conversation and then was gone, but it’s hard for me to dismiss it.  I don’t know.  I’ll ask Sharone, because I’m not going to waste time and energy worrying about this.  What the hell is phase three, anyway?

But really, it’s stupid of me anyway.  To want Robbie.  To want anyone.  Robbie treats me differently from how he treats other people, because he treats each person according to his relationship with that person.  It doesn’t make me special.  It doesn’t mean anything.  I’m an idiot and it would probably be a disaster anyway…he’s so comedy-oriented and I’m so serious most of the time.  Another stupid crush that will never come to anything.

Sharone was talking today, before rehearsal, about how she still wants to be with her ex-boyfriend (it’s a complicated situation and a long story, they’re not together right now but who knows how long that will last), and how she thinks it’s the dumbest thing ever that she still wants that.  And I told her, the head doesn’t rule the heart, however much we may like to think it does.  She agreed.  I should listen to my own council — if I have feelings for him, then I have feelings for him, and stupid or not that’s the way it is.

But I’m so done with it.  All of it.  I’d be quite happy to just have wonderful, fulfilling friendships with a lot of people and never have another crush or fall in love again.  But I’m not wired that way.  Even if I got over Robbie, there’d be someone else.  There’s always someone, someone for me to want, someone I can’t have.  I’m sick of the games, I’m sick of waiting, and I’m sick of hurting.  When is it my turn?  If there’s such a thing as karmah, haven’t I saved up enough good stuff yet that I can have some of it?  I’m just fed up.  It happens so easily in books and movies.  Why can’t it ever work that way in real life?  Where it just happens, without the months of waiting and wishing and trying?  Months, until the person goes away and you never see them again, at which time you write them a letter baring your soul to which they never reply.  Unless they’re Geoff, in which case they reply four months later.

I’m so ready to love and to be loved, and I’ve had enough of the waiting game.  I shouldn’t have to hurt endlessly for guys who don’t give a damn about me.  I should be able to find one to love me back, or else to stop loving them, stop reaching only to have my hand slapped back again and again.  It feels like too much to say, but I know it’s true — I deserve better.

–Stephanie