Not Ready

I decided to talk about myself. I am a confused little girl. Only a young girl could mistake a small crush as love. Only a big girl could mistake sex and pleasure as love. When is the right time. When will I understand love? I thought I was in love with Luka. After two weeks. What a load of shit. Who, besides a tiny child that doesn't understand the definition of the word love, would think this? I decided to look up the exact definition of love.

Love. 

-Noun-

An intense feeling of deep affection.

A person or thing someone loves.

A scoring term in tennis.

-Verb-

Feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone)

Hmm.

I got mixed up. I felt the last definition. The verb. I felt sexually attracted to him. But wait. Is that truly love? What did I see? Was it his looks? His attitude? His style? His -Ness?

First came his style. I am attracted to guys that wear skinny jeans, scarves, graphic tees, and punk rocker shoes. I am deprived of these boys where I live. This was grand. My mind was swirling with all of these amazing findings! Finally, a guy that attracts my attention. Next was his face. What a lovely face. What luscious hair. So soft looking, a hint of blonde in his light brown locks. This was a straight shooter. It was obvious I would fall for this boy sooner or later. Next, his -Ness. He was a funny, swearing, stylish boy. He had an optimistic view on his life. He had an accent. He said he didn't. He did. A slight English accent rode his words like a surf board on a wave. He was Japanese as well. Just a little. He spoke Japanese. This was a dream come true. I had stumbled upon a soulmate. Or so I thought. He flirted with me, no doubt. He objected the idea that he would ever flirt with me after the lovely 2 weeks that I spent with him. He swore at me. He let me cry. All I had left were the hormonal feelings left to be unfulfilled, and a heart that was now a pit of sorrow. I wept that day. The next day, I felt like I was recovering. I could maybe fix it? That thought kept me on the brink of happiness. The next day, I sobbed. That day was today. Katie, his victim at the moment helped me. She soothes my feelings, like a potter scores and smoothes his/her work. My friends don't understand much. Have they ever been in a situation such as this dreadful one? I would have to say, I am the girl in my group that has had the most fucked up experiences. This is not a surprise. I go for things. A bit fast. This is the consequence I get. You may be thinking, but Cat, what caused this problem? I would rather not elaborate on the subject. All that matters is I learned a bit about love. Now, just to learn how to forget.

Cat