This weekend, we’re venturing out to Tony’s hometown in Reno, Nevada for a 3-day trip (yet another in the books) to meet almost everyone he loves in the world, and I. Am. Pumped.
Here’s what I’ll be wearing, because obviously I have to look good doing it …
Meet: Tony, the cutest boy I’ve ever met.
Tony is … He’s … Jeez. How do I describe him to someone who’s never met him?
Good question.
I suck at this dating bullshit.
I almost flaked on him for this date in favor of sleep. And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if he hadn’t seen it coming from a mile away.
After four months of a wonderful relationship gone horribly awry, I’m back where I started: Single.
Of course I’m laughing at myself.
Really, Sherilynn? My inner hater laughs. Again?
When I first met *Brian, I thought he was so cool. He was the kind of cool that only a severely-sheltered girl of seventeen with zero world experience could imagine was cool. He had this sort of rebellious flair, this laid-back demeanor that made him stand out without having to say or do much at all. He had a presence, and when I first laid eyes on him, I immediately had a crush.
Why are people so fucking gross?! Stop cheating on your girlfriend or your boyfriend! It can’t be that hard! You’re making everyone look bad! Ugh.
When it comes to dating and relationships, especially after the whirlwind of bullshit from my very recent past, I am the sort of person who constantly gets cold feet. Rather than putting up with difficult feelings or pushing through the hard stuff, I throw my hands up instead and am quick to exclaim, “Fuck this! I’m out!”
I don’t trust you. I don’t like you. And I don’t find you very impressive at all.
I have this menstruation-calendar tracking app on my phone (I am so sorry in advance to all of my readers who get grossed out by the idea of a woman going through her natural cycles), and there’s this one week out of the month called “Green Week”, which basically means, “This week, you are going to be extremely horny.”
Being hit on is always such a surprising experience. In fact, despite the many times I have been hit on over the course of my life, the sensation still manages to catch me off guard.
The Internet? That’s different. When you are assaulted with as many creepy and shudder-worthy messages online as I am on a daily basis, you tend to grow jaded to flattery received via digital means, and all of it starts to blur together over time. Internet stuff, I can handle. I have been handling it for what feels like forever.
But real life.
That’s where I tend to struggle.
Love isn’t a science, is it? Is it too romantic to believe in and still hope for a sort of rapturous love that exists only in…
