God Damn.  God damn Melanie.  Oh Melanie…..

I totally made out with my friends brother tonight.  Not just any friend, it was a close friend.  Someone I knew since high school.  And she stopped talking to me a long time ago, when I got back from my Nepal trip and she only recently started talking to me again.  Lo and behold, I make out with her brother.  I’m the number one least person in the world she’d want making out with her brother.  Literally, the last person.

I don’t know how I feel about it.  I knew him since he was a kid.  I hate to admit it, but I had a crush on him since I met him.  It’s especially wrong since I’m 4 years older than him.  I knew him since he was 12.

He always liked me.  Like, always liked me.  Because I was different from the rest.  That’s what he told me.  I’m the only one of his sisters friends that he ever had a thing for.

And the guy is hot.  He’s super cute!  What am I supposed to do?  How can I not?  To be the object of affection for that long?  To be loved for that long?

God damn Melanie…..God damn.

One of my other friends caught us making out.  She also has a thing for him….She was so drunk, even before she caught us kissing, that I couldn’t tell if she was upset or just drunk.  She was wasted and went home shortly after.  I didn’t get the chance to explain myself or talk to her.

The thing is, I can explain myself!  This guy loved me for 15 years, if not longer.  I mean, come on now……and I haven’t kissed anyone in a really long time and sometimes a girl needs that.  No no, that’s a shitty explanation….I’ve always been attracted to him.  I don’t know how this shit works.  I really don’t.

What’s more puzzling is, why me?  Again, I don’t understand.  I’m really not that pretty.  In fact, I’d say I’m mighty frumpy in the looks department.  Why do I get all these hot people after me?  What the hell makes me so desirable?

What is it about you Melanie….what is it….I’m gross.  I pick my Nose like, all the time….

Rational Brain – “It’s the nose hairs.”

Um….what?

Rational Brain – “Your nose itches a lot because you think you have a booger in it but in actuality, you have a nose hair.”

Fucking nose hairs.  Thank you Dad for passing down your nose hair genes.  But thank you Mom for some awesome boobs!

Maybe that’s it.  My awesome boobs…..

Or maybe it’s that thing ayahuasca told me.  That I make people feel safe.  People like being around me because I make them feel safe.  I view everyone as family, and I love them as such.

I don’t know dude….all I know is that it taken me years of self therapy to be the some-what awesome person that I am.  Years upon years of writing.  Of journaling.  Of writing down every stupid thought and breaking it apart until it disintegrates.  Since I was 14.  I’ve been writing down everything since I was fourteen-fucking-years old.

And from all those years of writing, all the shit storms I went through…..I never want to break anyones heart again.  Not ever.  Not my own, not anyone else’s.  So I stopped dating altogether.  I need to not mess with her brother is what I need to do.  I know better than that.  I’m a freak when it comes to intimacy and all my friends know it.  I just can’t do it.  I can’t handle it.

I’ve been chasing freedom since I was 12.  I based my entire life around freedom as my number one goal.  I’m pretty much fucked from it.

Not a lot of people know this, but dating someone is a VERY big deal.  At least for me it is since all the guys I date end up fucked in the head.  I ruin them.  I’m accountable.

And honestly, Hana flashed through my head.  Her and I are supposed to grow old together and change each others diapers.  I’d be cheating on her if I settled down in a conventional relationship.

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My friends brother, the one I made out with tonight, just texted me.  His sister found out about our kiss somehow and a shit storm ensued.

I don’t get it.  Am I really that bad of a person?  Nobody should get close to me?  Nobody should touch me?  She makes me feel horrible about myself.

Years and years of self-therapy, all for nothing if I’m still too shitty to love or be loved.  I feel depressed.  I’m apparently not worthy, not good enough.  I’ll never be good enough.  And all I did was let him kiss me.  I’m the one who’s a bastard.