I admit, I am a workaholic.
I love to work and it has become a really good substitute for all the things I currently do not have at the moment such as: a life.
If I’m not working, I like to run or swim or engage in any form of physical activity. I’ll use my body over having to deal with emotions any day.
A lot of people have told me that running away or ignoring my feelings isn’t healthy. They think I do this as an egoistic defense mechanism to suppress the things I long to have but do not know how to get. They also think that I drown myself in work because I am ambitious. I agree to both.
There’s only one thing in the world that I want and have wanted for a long long time. Something that 2 failed long term relationships, numerous flings and a million heartaches have provided me with none. I don’t like admitting it because once you say something out loud it means that it actually means something to you. To actually have the world hear how desperate and vulnerable you are, to me, doesn’t exactly make a pretty picture.
I told myself I would be different, I did. But I am slowly realizing that I am a hypocrite. I’m just like every other girl out there- I just want to be loved. And maybe I’ve had it once or twice before but I know they were all misguided romances. I want the real thing.
I can do without the flowers and chocolates or the rapping of my window. Disregard the horse and the armor- I would take the saddle boy if it meant anything real. I guess that what I really want is someone who despite my beliefs that “everyone leaves” is someone who would ask me to stay when I realize that it is becoming all too real.
And because I know that the man I have inside my head and whom I have elaborately pictured out in the contents of my journal does not exist- I drown myself in work and unpleasant thoughts.
Sometimes I would like to believe I am crazy to think that something so rare would actually exist for me. I see my parents and I want they want. Not even distance can make a difference. I think of all the people who have left and I hate them for changing me. I think of all the love stories that are based on some truth and it makes me envious because I know that that’s not going to happen for me.
I’ll choose a career over love any day because a career won’t let you down. It won’t hurt you or make you feel like the hours you’ve put into trying to look good for them have been put to waste. A career won’t hit you, humiliate you or make you feel small. It won’t leave you and it won’t damage you like a relationship does.
A career gratifies itself.
But then again it won’t hold you in the middle of the night. It won’t look you in the eye and make the world stand still. A career won’t kiss you on the forehead and make you feel like you complete them because a career gratifies no one but itself.
So I guess I’ll be alone for a while until love finds me or until I find myself.
I think I must’ve gotten lost in all my thoughts.