Melancholy Musings (or why I’m still a teenage girl, no matter what my age is)

I’ve been done with classes and exams for almost two weeks, and an unhealthy amount of the time I’ve spent has been thinking about somebody I should not be spending that much time thinking about.  Wondering what he’s doing, why he hasn’t responded to the text or gchat I sent, if he’s thinking about me.  Wondering if I seem too needy, too clinging, especially given the nature of our relationship.  The fact that it probably doesn’t occur to him to think about me.  Then I get annoyed that he’s taking up so much of my thoughts and so many pages in my notebooks, that I can’t seem to just put him aside.

I tend to over-think a lot of things anyway, but especially where there are emotions involved.  There’s no good reason for this, it doesn’t do a whole lot of good, but it’s something I’ve done for as long as I can remember having complicated feelings.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s more entertaining and enjoyable than thinking about the note I’m supposed to be writing to try to get on a law school journal, no matter how upset it makes me.  But it’s about as productive as a hamster running on a wheel.  

And I know how to fix it, that’s the worst part.  All I have to do is say “dude, seriously, can you tell me what’s up, and what you think, and if you’re as bothered by this as I am?  Because I can’t do this all anymore, something needs to change, and you tell me what but we should either go forwards or backwards.”  But of course that isn’t going to happen.  I’ll continue to wonder, and strategically plan what I say and when, and be utterly pathetic.  

Maybe I’m just emotionally stunted, maybe I need to suck it up and put my big girl pants on.  Or maybe the majority of young twenty-somethings act like middle school girls on occasion, when thinking about that one particular guy.  

I wish I could figure him out.


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