I think I might be through with you.

My holiday was filled with a hacking cough, a fever, and a congested nose. I've had bronchitis for almost two weeks now. But when I did decide to get out of the house, some good things happened. Some bad things happened, too, though. And I've decided that I'm finished. I'm finished going after boys that don't care about me and won't. I don't know why the only guys that are interested in me are the ones I'm not interested in. I don't know why that happens. And I don't know why I constantly put myself out there for people that don't reciprocate my feelings. But I am le tired. Tired of being let down over and over again. I know that I am good enough, and I know that I deserve to get what I want. That's why I usually don't let myself get too upset about the bullshit, and I pick myself up, and I try again with someone new. I'm just so frustrated. Not sexually, mind you, just frustrated with things that can only be blamed on my bad luck. And with my latest attempt, I was complaining about how nothing I was doing was working, and my friend asked me if I could afford to keep making the effort. I thought, yeah, of course, I have a lot of free time, and not any other prospects I want to pursue right now. But that's not what I have to worry about affording. It's not a matter of time, it's a matter of the emotional toll that this crap is taking on me. And I decided that I can't afford the emotional costs, I really can't. And so I'm done. I'm finished. And if you're reading this (which you're not because you're not interested enough to read my damn blog), fuck off.

And to my actual readers (both of you. . . ), sorry for this post, really. I feel like a teenager because I'm bitching about this shit. Either that or a divorcee. Anyway, I don't post whiny shit normally, I just needed to get this off my chest, you know? This is one of those times when I'm kind of glad I have a blog.