Peppermint

I enjoy the taste of peppermint. It is a fresh, clean taste and smell that I always let linger. I have fallen into routine for waking up every morning, as I am sure most people do, and I have a tendency to brush my teeth in the shower. As hot water wakes up the rest of my body, I tingle my senses with traditional peppermint. As I brush my teeth I am usually stuck staring at my breasts.

Every morning my mind wanders to the same thoughts. 'I love my breasts' and 'who wouldn't love these perfect breasts?' I pride myself on the two flesh mounds stuck to my chest. I am conceited and I feel I can rule men by the power of my breasts. I like to break hearts because I feel every man who turned me down in my past has earned the emotional heartbreak of men after them. I secretly want to become a player and make sure I leave boys used and abused in my path. I hate men, I love men, I need men. To be more precise, I need A man. I worry about the day I might get breast cancer, or I will be in a horrible accident. I won't be able to use my breasts as a weapon. I honestly believe that if I were to indeed get breast cancer and have to lose one because of it, I think I would die a little inside.

I have built this relationship with my chest that has made me so attached other than physically, that I would be missing a huge part of myself. My ego would never be allowed to be big again. I could never walk with an air of confidence. I would not consider myself to be a whole woman. I would cry every night and morn the death of an important part of me. My breasts have become a best friend, a back up, my partner in crime. I would not be able to go on without them. I would be half a person and would most likely begin to view the glass as half empty. To every man I would seem unattractive and no one would want me.

I need someone to love me. That has been my focus in life since I can remember. I cried today. I lay on my bed, alone, with no sound and I cried. I cried to myself saying all I need is physical touch, an embrace, a loving and affectionate gesture. I wanted to be loved. I need to be loved. Even if it was an illusion of love. I wanted there to be a man there with me, looking at me with that twinkle in his eye, holding me close as he pressed his lips upon mine. I wanted his hand to press against my lower back and for him to nuzzle against the crook of my neck. I wanted him to look me in the eyes and tell me he loved me, even if he didn't mean it, before kissing me again. I break hearts and I judge quickly as to whether or not I would give the man a chance based on appearance and the fact that I walk around daily with a broken heart. I am constantly falling in love, and then never receiving any kind of love in return.

I am becoming desperate with the nearing day of Valentines Day. I haven't been alone on Valentines in years. I don't think I could handle being alone this year. Especially since I dreamed of him last night. The boy I was most recently in love with, realized he had warped me, and was left to rot and feel self pity for months at a time over. I dreamed that he was high, and that I had to take care of him throughout the entire dream. He began to cry at one point and tell me he still loved me and wanted nothing more but to marry me. I woke up, and felt more alone than I have for three months. I just want someone to share life with, I want someone to appreciate me, to love me, to passionately take me in his arms and let me know I am all that matters in that moment.

I break hearts because I am afraid and I do not to find this kind of wish fulfilled until I can let go of my worries and fears. I feel maybe I do not put enough walls when I need to, and I put up too many when I don't. I am so confused and lonely that I have just felt more alone as each year passes. Yet more and more men come to me, ask me out, try to impress me, confess things to me I wish they hadn't. Their confessions give me reason to hurt them, to not give them the chances, to only consider them a passing thought. My biggest fear is being alone, and it all begins with my need to be loved. If only someone would tell me they loved me, even like my last relationship. He told me he loved me, it was an illusion, but I was still in euphoria and nothing could have been better. If only illusions could be enough.

Interesting how this had nothing to do with peppermint. How interesting life can be so cruel.

Nerds and How I Associate

As I sat in the cafeteria, waiting for my next class as I sometimes do, I noticed a boy with red shoes. A baby face etched lightly with the signs of growing maturity. At least in age, for I do not know his personality nor his mind frame. He is surrounded by, what I would assume, could be considered the nerds. People I tend to surround myself with. The kind who can appreciate a good game of D&D, who can compare video games, and possibly understand computers at an above average level. The kind of group who lacks a female, and would possibly fear the idea of one becoming part of the group. I would usually go up to them and discuss a game or two. Today is a different day. I almost find myself incapable of confronting them. I have enjoyed being able to refer to myself as a nerd. Sadly I haven't played any games or discussed related topics in such a long time. I almost fear the I will be rejected by the ones I can relate to the most.

Popularity is still a big factor in social lives, even in college. I have grown to become one of the popular compared to when I was younger. I was like them in a way. Considered weird, pushed to the side, yet comfortable with my small handful of friends. I was always a social and outgoing person and I pride myself on this quality. I have made many friends since my younger days and I have gained the title so highly wished for throughout junior high and high school. I had become popular, but not the kind that was instantly given through sports, blond hair, and dating the coolest guy in school. I got it from being able to go into any group and relate. I fit in everywhere, was social to a high, and enjoyed the party scene. Even as I first began college, I became the party scene. I threw parties, told everyone about parties, and became a sort of source to even strangers of where to go on saturday nights even if I wasn't attending. I knew plenty of DJs and had my connections with the right people. I still do, I am just no longer in constant contact with them since I've moved away.

So now, being placed as the new kid again, knowing that I would do well with just about anyone I meet, I still fear going over to the table. I fear the awkwardness or the fact that they may laugh at my not as current knowledge of games. This of course would not actually happen. I have learned the older you get, the more accepting certain groups will be. Especially the nerds. So I did go up to them. I sat down, realized I already had a crush on a handful, talked for a long while before my class and time flew. I even returned after my class was over and was once again faced with the boy with red shoes. He had a lisp, and I couldn't think him cuter. Classic in almost every way, a little shy, but still willing to be social if approached first. I had finally found a group of friends in this large place I had not been a part of for years. I was happy, and that is all that mattered.

My Initial Thoughts of Love

I only think I will feel most comfortable writing this blog listening to music. Very fitting music for every mood, for every thought, and every creation. Each time I will most likely pick a station on Pandora. Boards of Canada is such a beautiful station that I sometimes feel the want to lay here for an eternity and listen to nothing else. On the occasion I would hope to feel the touch and the lips of the one I loved.

Of course this person of whom I imagine is just that; a part of my imagination. I find myself feeling lonely, yet hopeful to find the love I dream about almost every day. I am a hopeless romantic who wishes nothing more than to share the rest of my life with someone who wants the same. I want to be able to laugh at silly jokes, make funny faces, find the comfort in the silence, and want nothing more than to hold each others hand. I want to love like every romance comedy, like every love letter or poem, like every song that lifted your heart into a memory so sweet you almost lost it in your daydreams of memories not yet made. I love the idea of love and it has been a goal in my life since as far back as my mind will recall.

Sadly, in the my search for true love, I have found fear and heartbreak. I come out better and stronger after each sad ending, but I find myself never really letting go of my one true fear. Of being alone for the rest of my life. I feel myself panic, I feel myself unable to sleep or find comfort in my dreams. I am falling away from the thing I wish I had most and I am losing time so rapidly that nothing can save me from my own demise. There is the quote, "you are your worst enemy" and I find nothing but truth in these words. I cannot be left alone to think of the 'what ifs' and the possible outcome to every possible action. I have left myself alone to think amongst my own thoughts, which lead me only to over analyze, to think too far in depth of the simplest of situations. I have let every "potential" become a possibility of finally finding that happiness I had always dreamed of one day having.

I have broken many hearts in my path of finding true love, but perhaps it is the ones I have looked over who showed the most potential. Even at my young age I have to wonder if my fear will come true throughout the years. Will I have driven away any chance of me being happy? Will I have taken to much thought into what I wanted, compared to what was good and what I needed? Will I have grown so picky and shallow of those whom I allow myself to date, that I will find myself only surrounded by scum? I can only hope for better things. My heart knows deep down that I will one day find what I am searching for in this vast world. I will not be alone; how could I when there are billions of people in the world. Certainly there must be at least one out there who was meant for me?

I remember taking a world religions and mythology class my senior year of high school. I took the class because it contained one of my favorite teachers at the school, who surprisingly enough was from my home town 10 hours away. I was always fascinated with her teachings, feeling I would take the most from her class with me as I moved onto college. I was right in more ways than one. I remember a particular story that still holds in my mind so strong. It was a story of how when humans were made, we had a connection, like a string attached to us, that if we turned around we would find our soul mate. The humans could be happy with their significant other and never have to search far for them. Sadly, the humans had upset the gods, so as punishment, the gods cut the strings that attached us to our soul mate. We were banished to the world not knowing who our soul mate was and forced to search the world for them. If only it were as easy now to turn around and find the man I have been searching for all this time. Damn the gods indeed, for giving a punishment as harsh as this. For now I must walk this earth in search of the one I knew would be mine from the beginning of my existence. May my journey only bless me with a fine outcome.