I have this sick obsession of getting in the minds of others to see what they secretly think about

Is it possible to love someone too much?

Or really… is the truth that the feelings we are feeling is a blurred line between possessive and obsessive?

While I lay in bed at this moment looking at this man beside me, I feel this fulfillment that he makes my life complete… even though I’m not entirely sure what that means. As wonderful as that all sounds, I’m not gonna sit here and lie to myself and everyone else on the internet.

Believe me this isn’t the feeling I have every night when I look at him. Every day is a little different.

Every petty argument we have I’ll fight to the death.

I’m not fighting or being combative to “win”. I’m not trying to make mountains out of a molehill. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of where our feelings come from.

If my feelings are hurt – I’m not backing down until they are validated, or an explanation warrants an apology from me.

I’m not above admitting I’m wrong… I just don’t see the point in hiding my emotions to avoid a dispute, or to give the impression that something “doesn’t bother me” so I can be that “cool girlfriend” he’s always wanted.

Eventually the truth comes out.

Those tiny things that kind of bother us can either (if you’re lucky) fade away… or (more likely than not) become worse and snowball into bigger issues that ultimately turn into relationship deal-breakers.

But why is it that today – do I feel like I’m so filled with love that my heart could explode?

I’m trying to connect a pattern that brings me to this state of joy. I’m trying to map out a future of happiness by learning from my failed relationships.

Not only do I want this to last forever, I want this to last happily forever.

I’m constantly in a struggle of blind love, and the harsh truth of the real world. There is so much lying, cheating, and perversion out there, you have to wonder – could I be a victim of betrayal?

I’ve heard horror stories from friends and I’ve experienced my own nightmare of finding out an ex-boyfriends perversions that can’t be unseen. I developed a habit of reading casual encounters on Craigslist for entertainment.

I have this sick obsession of getting in the minds of others to see what they secretly think about – and realizing how naive those they love don’t know who their significant other really is. It’s unreal how many married men will post that they are free in the evening and would love a dick in their mouth.

That being said, if there’s one thing my thirty years alive has taught me, was that no one ever really knows anyone.

In my relationship there are no red flags and no reasons to worry – but I wonder how many people should be worried and are just unsuspecting. All I can do is trust that I’m not a victim of this kind of betrayal.

Sometimes it’s just nice to feel any emotion to remind you how lucky you are to be alive. 

There’s a million articles I can read on the internet about what I should be doing with my life. For every article with one viewpoint, I can guarantee I could find one saying the exact opposite from the first one I just read.

They are all so convincing… which one should I believe?

I’m the first one to admit I’m a huge sucker and I’m sold on any good sales pitch… even if I don’t believe what they are saying. I love anything As Seen on TV. I was one Amazon click away from buying a pressure washer one day even though I have zero use for it.

What do I do when the sales pitch I’m being sold on isn’t Hip Hop Abs or Booty Pop? What do I do when I’m being sold on actual life paths to take?

At what point did I start looking for advice from some millennial with a blog?

Today I decided to stop. Alright… I’ll still read them… but I’m going to mindful that whoever wrote it may not have any idea what the fuck they’re talking about… and just because they can write an article with numbered bullet points doesn’t make them an expert in the subject.

What did we do when the internet wasn’t around and an abundance of “advice” wasn’t at our fingertips?

Oh yeah… I think we actually lived our lives. We went to dinner, parties, movies, played board games, had long car rides, watched tv, took walks… and we did it without staring at our phones. We had actual arguments over facts instead of just asking google for the answer. We had to meet people in real life, and based on that encounter… you might be asked for your phone number or for a date.

Maybe it’s just me, but I feel that before all this… we worried about ourselves and our well-being. We made our own mistakes and we learned from them (or we just made them again… whatever).

I remember when it was cliché for a guy to roll his eyes about an argument his wife had based on a Cosmo article they read. Now they have to worry about a whole internet of opinions.

What’s up now guys? According to the internet, you literally can’t do anything right!

If you’re one of the rebels without an internet trail, you might as well be Norman Bates – and good luck to you convincing someone you’re not a weirdo with actual skeletons in your closet.

Read whatever you want (they’re still good articles after all). If you want any advice from me – I’d say live your life for you and make your own decisions based on what you want to do at that moment, and don’t label anything, or accidentally alter your feelings because of something you read on the internet.

Every situation is different, every person is different, and how you interpret everything that happens to you is what makes you who you are.

That being said, don’t take advice from me. I blew off my date tonight because I got sad about where I was at in life and just wanted to be alone. I wanted to reflect on how all the relationship choices I made ended with me here – freeloading off my grandmother, watching reruns of Roseanne (there’s not a lot of stations to choose from), and eating straight Nutella out of the container for dinner.

Life is still beautiful… even on your sad days. Sometimes it’s just nice to feel any emotion to remind you how lucky you are to be alive. 

I just hope that if I choke on my food, I can successfully give myself the Heimlich Maneuver.

It’s easy to compare my life to everyone else my age. Everyone already made their “I’m officially a homeowner!” posts on Facebook or announced the coming of their second child in some cute, clever way.

Currently I’m a nomad just trying to figure out my next hot shower. I have family ready to catch my fall… and although my life may not be like everyone else’s, it doesn’t have to be… I’m in no position to complain.

As childish as it is, I still want to make them proud. I want to finally make enough right choices where they don’t have to worry about me so much.

Unfortunately it seems impossible to meet everyone’s standards.

My mom wants me to meet a nice rich guy that will take care of me. OK sure… point me in the direction of all the eligible bachelors with money just waiting in line to take care of me financially.

My sister is a bit more realistic. She just wants me to meet someone who at least has their shit together. Fair enough but… who am I to judge?

There just is not a lot out there to choose from. The phrase “there is plenty of fish in the sea” is so… much… bullshit.  The only people who actually believe that are the ones that are not on the front lines of dating misery. There may be many fish… but they are haggard, broke assholes who are afraid of commitment.  They may not be any of those things, but they are so boring and socially awkward, you have to wonder how many dead bodies are buried in the backyard or stuffed in their crawl spaces.

If the other half knew what it was like to be in our shoes, maybe they would understand how stealing someone’s boyfriend starts becoming an acceptable idea.

I know how ignorant it sounds, but, I’m a faithful side chick.  I don’t feel like I’m on the market.  However, I can only put up with that charade until it hurts too much to share (which wont be long).

If it doesn’t work out – I would rather be single than find a new boo by playing with Tinder or setting up a profile on POF. I would rather come home to six cats, watch Netflix, eat mac and cheese for dinner, and I just hope that if I choke on my food, I can successfully give myself the Heimlich Maneuver.