G Spots and Jealousy.

I’m surprised to find myself very lonely today/tonight. For a few weeks now, I have been living with a boy from Ghana. Obviously my parents didn’t know about it, they would have been furious. I wasn’t thrilled, either. But someone’s got to pay the other fourth of the rent. Anyway, he moved out and went back to nyc today. It was an awkward goodbye and I thought I was happy when it was over. You see, we didn’t talk very much at all. The most conversation we had was when Coral came to stay for a couple days and he tried to get her into bed.

Poor, beautiful Coral. I’ll always be jealous of her. We (and everyone else) used to joke that we were twins. We are incredibly similar in looks and personality. Unfortunately, I got the short gene from my mom, and Coral got the tall one from hers. Legs and arms to die for. And I’m….working on it. We’re related through my father and her mother. Since I can remember, I’ve always felt so inferior to her. She had this amazing stroke of luck in looks, personality, charm, and luck in general. I tried to out do her in so much. Academia, art, life…I only succeeded in academics. As far as life goes, we’re pretty much on the same plain. And we’re talented differently in art. Although, she is a better singer. I don’t know. I’ve never talked about the on-going war in my head between Coral and I. It’s embarrassing. I love her more than anyone…she’s my twin. I just can’t help feeling dumpy and unsuccessful next to her. I could never tell her that. She helps me through everything.

There’s a lot on my mind. No wonder people get wrinkles so early in life. So much worry.

Last night, Chris asked me…well. The Conversation went like this:

Chris: Girls are haters.
Me: Yeah. But I still like you.
Chris: Hooooow much?
Me: *holds out abnormally long arms* This much! 😀
Chris: Marry me!

Now. This may look like a normal cute conversation. But it isn’t. Chris -never- talks about marriage and has made it incredibly clear that he has no plans to do so any time soon. I also have no plans for that which is why I replied, "Maaaybe in five years or so." Underneath my cool nonchalant exterior, I had a billion questions. Obviously he couldn’t possibly mean -actual- marriage. But it showed he was serious about me. For once. I’m ready for things to be serious. I’m ready for a new life. But my bank account isn’t.

I want to get things moving, or I might die here.

So, you know how one thought process leads to another. I was in the shower, daydreaming about the conversation. Then I thought about the possibility of children (SOME day, MAYBE). And I remembered, "Hey…it may be virtually impossible for you to have children, Leigha. Don’t forget that." What am I supposed to say to him? It’s something I’ve wanted to talk to him about for a long time. I can’t relax enough to orgasm, and I hardly have the means give someone a child. I hardly feel like a woman most days. I’ve been robbed of two of the greatest gifts of being a woman. The G spot and giving life. Some days, I feel like dying.

Gross.