I like the weird one

"our sorrows and wounds are healed only when we touch them with compassion."


Last night was a big giant dose of F.G.O. This acronym was formulated by my brothers step mom and means "Fucking Growth Opportunity" ( and this wasn't inspired by those dirty little illiterate Jersey Whores). Regardless, it was love at first hearing with that term. Its good to take a step back every once and a while, acknowledge the emotion with a feeling and not run or hide from it but take it on. Face to face, sometimes with full awareness that the outcome is going to hurt more than simply running the other way.

As I sat around my neighbors watching a show that I loathe, I oddly felt giddy and excited. I even made sure that I had the cable on the right channel, at the right time. I made sure I had no distractions. I might as well of had slippers, popcorn and tissues ready to wipe my vagina off... actually, I did have slippers. But thats not the point. The point is that I knew watching this show was going to hurt to a certain degree. It was going to touch some spots within me that aren't healed and I haven't forgiven myself for. But I had to do it. I had to sit in the judgment of others, where the elephant in the room was me and where I... was the only one getting something more out of it than mindless television. I was purposely pouring lemon juice in my eye. And even though I smiled and laughed when I saw my parallel heart dance into the scene, I was shaking in embarrassment. Everyones eyes were pointed at the T.V, but their judgment was vibrating directly in my core. I felt an unspoken conversation of " Jesus Christ, you have got to be the dumbest person I know!" and me saying " Yeah, that's possibly accurate." And then the rest of them chuckling behind hands covering mouths and throwing potatoes and rotten flowers at my feet for doing such a great job of creating a tragic show. Tragically hilarious probably. But to be honest... I didn't let that take my smile. I was happy to see her where she was. It was a good thing for her and her career and thankfully, she totally showcased the amazing, awkward, quirky enigma of a human being I always imagined her to be.

I despise the editing process of reality shows. From the first show, you can telegraph the finale. You can tell simply by the music and camera time if the person is going to be around for much longer. I was saddened that this network decided to brush over such a rare romantic... but I was happy... that she so obviously kept her foundation. She kept her humor and invasive child-like nature. She kept a smile and kept dancing. And dancing. And most importantly, she proved... to the ones that 'know her'... that she's not a damn sell out. She isn't looking for just anyone to give her heart to. And I kept thinking "I wonder why they haven't shown a single interview, solo one on one thing with her?" and I just pictured what she would have said. I'm pretty sure she would have been honest. She would have said something dorky and cute but probably nothing that proved interest in the 'game'. I loved watching her in the sides of shots. Her expressions weren't desperate. They were organic.

All of this ... is pretty pathetic for me to say. I spent the last year of my life conned into giving my heart to a face and a blog which I didn't just keep to myself about. I couldn't keep it to myself. I had to vent... and even with the support of friends.. they still judge me. But I'm learning to not judge myself.

It's not my fault that I like the weird one. I am not ashamed that I am utterly infatuated with the mind of a nerd who I'll never meet. I wasn't the one who built that attraction anyway; the spawn of Satan shoved me face first into nirvana and anyone and everyone would agree that it would be a little impossible to not give into it. The idea was beautiful. The connection I built with her words and her insights is unexplainable. And I'm completely fine with transitioning a heart break- into a respect. I suppose, indirectly and with the sacrifice of some dignity and a perfectly fine heart, this person did a great job of making me a fan of someone. (Creepiest marketing ever, though.) And I dont have to associate those feelings I encountered this year... with the true person behind the face. I can associate those feelings for the demon who brought me into such a lonely room, left me there beaten, cockless and crying. All the positivity I experienced... well, I can attribute that to the actual person. Her thoughts and wisdom were the only true butterfly moments I felt during that time period anyway. All I have to tell myself is that in another life- it could have happened. But its not a bad thing I went for what I wanted. I followed my heart. I just had a really shitty person blindfolding me. And a really handicapped heart. But I can't be blamed for wanting love... for wanting to believe I deserve good for once. I can only have compassion for the hurt little hopeless romantic within me...

keep my head up. And keep believing.