Flogstaffing for Sisters
S’crackalackin’, y’all? This one’s going to be of intermittent length. I’m just going to start because otherwise I don’t think anything will ever get written on the subject of this but welcome to all newcomers. It’s the morning after the funny day in April, and I’m puffing on a pen, or at least I was, before getting interrupted. I almost directed this one at the roommate it was about, but I need this to be more focused on where my head happens to be.
It’s focused on the roommate’s sister, I should say. A problematic person to look at in any sort of light other than potentially purely platonic, or otherwise. I’m typing all of this now in order to iron out how I feel. In the midst of losing my job in two weeks and not truly knowing where I’ll be headed, I find myself urged to write about... this, for some reason. How I feel about my roommate’s sister.
It’s ridiculous, but it brings me comfort to take ridiculous things incredibly seriously. Why would I ever entertain any kind of crush on someone that close? I’ll tell you the signs. There are things I’ve said and done that I remember, and then things that are actually being projected upon me as far as my attraction goes.
I wish she wasn’t the way she was, there’s something terribly wrong in her that needs help, and I’m not the one that can get it to her. I don’t have the patience for what’s going on in her head right now either; too preoccupied with mine.
I appreciate the fact that she’s courteous, kind, and fun when she comes over, but I’m not romantically attracted to her. She’s distractingly-attractive, some might even say ‘stunningly’, but she’s not my type. I’ve complained and bitched incessantly recently regarding being ‘touch-starved’, but physical attractiveness just isn’t enough for me anymore.
The girl’s beautiful, but I have to focus on my work, I have to focus on my writing. I confessed to my roommate in, what I regarded as complete confidence, that I thought she was hot, because I do. I differ attraction from physical attractiveness when determining if I like someone. When my roommate’s girlfriend approached me, accusing me of having a crush on her, however, my tune changed.
My voice probably got higher in pitch, my face probably got redder, not because it was true, I could easily deny it with eye-contact ten times over, but because it was hard not to look suspicious under that light, because I had given it it’s fair share of thought, and I decided that I was sparing the world, somehow doing it a favor by taking myself out of the equation and not ever worrying about dating until after I’ve finished what I’m working on. These experiences can wait.
I decided that I can’t have a crush on her, for a couple of nail-coffin reasons:
The first is that I have to focus on writing, and expanding what I’m working on. I can’t stop and smell the flowers because every time I do, I feel like I’m dying, or in some way losing progress when I could be working... and the other reason is that I’m 22; I don’t have crushes, I either like her or I don’t, and I would hate to put it this way to cement it in my head, but I may be touch-starved, but not so mind-numbingly desperate that I’d potentially ruin my life just for the chance to be touched.
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