I Need to Get Something Off My Chest
Midnight Reflections of a Tinder Junkie (written 11/12/17 1:58am)
Where' the group that's called, "I like to torture myself by refusing to say no because I'm stuck on sparing other people's feelings"?
I fell for it again. I think I'll call this my relapse. I'm at another loser's house that I met on Tinder a couple months ago. We bantered back and forth for a long time and met up once before, and oh my god, I wanna write everything that's happened, but a part of me is too afraid that this site isn't quite as anonymous as I'd like to hope. So I'll spare the details and perhaps save it for my acerbic, yet comedic autobiography.
I really don't know what to say. I'm some sort of foreigner caught in between two worlds. One is the one that I've come from and the other is where I aspire to be. I've learned too much to return where I have been, yet not enough to land where I want to be. Thus, leaving me to land, unfortunately, among the dull stars where I situate my temporary home.
While I'm sure it's nearly impossible to sound any more pompous than I do right now; I don't care. I suppose it's my pent-up angst after having to have sat with this ignoramus for my entire weekend after being promised one thing that was immediately dashed after about the first 2 hours. I should've left then, but I suppose I felt that I had invested too much to leave at that point.
What a fool I always am.
Where' the group that's called, "I like to torture myself by refusing to say no because I'm stuck on sparing other people's feelings"?
I fell for it again. I think I'll call this my relapse. I'm at another loser's house that I met on Tinder a couple months ago. We bantered back and forth for a long time and met up once before, and oh my god, I wanna write everything that's happened, but a part of me is too afraid that this site isn't quite as anonymous as I'd like to hope. So I'll spare the details and perhaps save it for my acerbic, yet comedic autobiography.
I really don't know what to say. I'm some sort of foreigner caught in between two worlds. One is the one that I've come from and the other is where I aspire to be. I've learned too much to return where I have been, yet not enough to land where I want to be. Thus, leaving me to land, unfortunately, among the dull stars where I situate my temporary home.
While I'm sure it's nearly impossible to sound any more pompous than I do right now; I don't care. I suppose it's my pent-up angst after having to have sat with this ignoramus for my entire weekend after being promised one thing that was immediately dashed after about the first 2 hours. I should've left then, but I suppose I felt that I had invested too much to leave at that point.
What a fool I always am.
31-35, F
