Torn

As I sit down to write today I feel torn. Torn between talking about what I want to talk about (the boy) and what I think will get my blog read (not the boy). As I am just re-entering the blogosphere, it's probably pretty important to impress my readers. As I am writing for myself, it's probably pretty important to write whatevuh-the-hell-I-wanna.

What have we learned so far? I am seriously confused about everything and also cannot get away with using the word "whatevuh", even in hyphenated form.

Okay, so the boy. Because fuck you - you don't have to read this. And what I mean by that is please do :) and think I'm witty while you're at it.

Why do I feel like a transvestite crying out "They like me, they really like me"? (If you don't get the reference, you need to work on your midnight movie trivia)

Okay . . . the boy! And, the girl. What kind of person is torn between a boy and a girl? This is so not me!! Yet it most certainly is . . . Well, let's get one thing straight (pun intended), I love them both very much. The question is how?

The real question is why? The boy wants space - he wants a month. A goddam bloody month to sort out his life and make sense of why and how he can be falling in love so completely. And the girl, well - she's a girl. And you know what they say- once you've had dick, going lesbian is a trick.

Err . . . actually no one says that. Only I say stupid stuff like that.

Meanwhile, I just want to be loved and adored by an olive-skinned, curly headed boy with hazel eyes and perfect lips. I also want the safety, security, warmth and friendship of soft arms and a soft bosom to curl up in and make sense of everything in the universe. I want my best friend.

Is that so wrong?

Maybe I should just wrend myself in two - and give a part to each. And have the two parts of me walk in opposite directions and leave this conglomeration of desires and wants and aches in the past.

Excellent. That is the plan. Shortly I will tear myself in two and pursue both desires simultaneously.

I just don't know which half will maintain the blog . . .