Dear Journal,
today was so embarrassing. In math I got my period and had to ask to go to the nurse to get a pad! It was actually kinda funny after though cuz me and Eve were laughing about it. After math she asked Craig who he liked in front of like Mike and other people and he just said he doesn’t like anyone. When he asked why she said it was because she knew someone who likes him. Like thats not obvious. She thinks I should just take a chance, but Katy’s partie’s in a few days, so I’m just gonna see how that goes. If the same thing as last week (or better *wink wink*) goes on then I’ll go for it, but if nothing special happens or he goes w/ someone else (I’ll probably cry :'( ) then its just friends for us. I do hope we get together Friday night though. I like him so much but I don’t know if he thinks I have, well, a good enough body.
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Well, there is it. The Golden Ticket of my failure with guys from Day-freaking-One. It’s a little thing called CRIPPLING ANXIETY.
It’s sad going through these journals sometimes. I’ll just leave it at that. The good thing though, is realizing how far I’ve come on the self-esteem front. I’ve still got a lot to work on, but don’t we all? I definitely still have a problem with anticipating success or failure far before due time, and the body image thing is like the Goliath of my life. So looking at how I dealt with my emotions and insecurities in eighth grade ends up being super helpful today. I just take the bullshit I put myself through at thirteen, smack myself upside the head with logic and maturity, and go forth knowing making these sorts of fumbles ten years later is, in a word, pathetic. It really is.
Sometimes I wonder if my relationship complex growth was stunted by all this drama back in the day, but then I remember I haven’t cried over an imaginary relationship in over four years. I won’t say who those credits go to, but I will say I had a swept-off-my-feet experience with a very recently recovered cancer survivor slash volunteer firefighter sophomore year in college that literally brought me to tears the next day. Between our magical meeting–by its college definition, we expressed strong mutual interest in both emotional and physical bonding, with an emphasis on the physical–and the next morning’s breakfast conversation where he told his survivor story start to finish, my fragile heart was turned to mush on the phone with my mom that afternoon. He was good. Of course I shot myself in the foot with overexcitement just four days later when I called to ask him out that next weekend. Everything works out, though. My knight-in-shining-armor vision was appropriately erased completely after our much anticipated reunion two years later. Surprise! Kid was in it for the nooky.
I wanted to pump the breaks on the commentary because it’s honestly getting a little redundant. You know how it’s going to go with Craig. It’s the same story as all the rest, no different than it was in fifth grade; and you know what? It’s not going to change through high school either. Well, it kind of is. The buildup of Little Allison’s story, in a nutshell, is increased physical activity, greater emotional pitfalls following breakups, and way higher expectations/more awesome hoops the dudes (should be) jump(ing) through to lure me out of my prudent shell. It is entertaining, it’s just predictable. Maybe that’s just for me, though. I know the end of this story better than all of you. Oh well, the entries are just for fun anyways; the good stuff will come with that book you’re all dying to read. Just keep praying I don’t become a homeless vagrant in the meantime, or I’ll be typing these from the public library.
Allison's Private Journal 