What Am I Doing With My Life

Tired.

Have you ever been in a condition where you love something or someone hyperbolically? The condition that pushes you to keep thinking about it. Keep thinking about something or someone even it drains your energy, your emotions, and your thinking capacity.

I realized that my loving-thing wasn't in a good way, and not even a good thing. When you love it entirely, you will be very open to any condition in which the thing you love is happy or in a perfect condition. No matter how hard it must be for you. No matter how depressing it must be for you. You will be sincere.

And I wasn't like that. I have no sincereness to let the thing that I love in such condition which not in my control. I love someone but I only focused on the idea of loving him. The idea of having him. Not the idea of loving him entirely. I never realized that I have this kind of personality until I encountered my first sex experience.

Three guys ago, I matched with a smart guy. We met, we talked, we laughed at each other. It was fun but I have a boyfriend back then. So, we didn't do much. After I broke up with my boyfriend, I approached him again. And, yeah. Kinda close. He was nice. We met again. We kissed. We made out. And it was a great night. The story wasn't only about our sex but also what happened before and after. Until he disappeared. Days... Weeks... Months... Until last night.

Last night, I was dreaming about him. One of four horsemen of mine. The one with the cute mustache and flabby stomach. Two of my favorite things about him. The "buddy" guy... Oh, Jesus. I miss being called "buddy" by this gorgeous creature.

Back to the story. In my dream, I met a guy. He was cute, skinny, had a thin layer of mustache and a little bit taller than me. His face was so familiar but I couldn't string his face to the virtual database of my colleagues. We met in an empty and (of course) creepy mansion with a large clean swimming pool. There were a lot of dried leaves, showing that winter almost there. I forgot some part of the story but I remember that we were swimming, not talking much. Just swim and smoke beside the pool, after.

Out of nowhere, this "Buddy" guy came. He approached me. He pulled my hand. He said that guy wasn't a good guy. He tried to convince me not to date this skinny guy. He said all of the bad things about this guy. I was like, "This suggestion in the purpose of protection came from the one who left me. Do you think I will listen to that person? Do you think I will listen to you?" and then he kissed me. Yes. The "Buddy" guy kissed me while tightening his hands on me. I looked into his eyes and I cried. I felt like he hugged me in real life. I felt like being blinded by love. Again. By him. Again.

He took me to a room. A bedroom with a queen sized bed. He laid me down and covered me up a warm fuzzy blanket. I could see his fear of losing me in his eyes. I cried. He wiped my tears and kissed me. We made out. He took all of his clothes. It felt like a very first time. I remember how he did it on our first time, and he did the same in that dream.

I hugged him. I shake his flabby stomach. I pinched his cheek. I brushed his mustache. I realized how much I loved him. I was so happy. But it triggered something terrible. The dark side of mine came out. I felt so aggressive and possessive. I didn't want to let him go. No matter what.

The creepiest part was the time when I pointed a sharp knife to his back while hug and kiss him and made him do the vow.

And then I woke up.

I cried.

I'm tired of being haunted by the idea of having someone.

I'm tired of being haunted by the idea of love.

I'm tired of being haunted.

I'm tired.