For Anyone Who Dates Me

For anyone who decides to date me, know that I write everything. Know that I am very blunt, open, and straightforward, therefore, I give no fucks when it comes to writing about my life. Know that I break many rules of girl code, as in, more than half the shit I say and do is considered to be a huge mistake. A mistake that’s bigger than Justin Beiber’s existence. Know that half the people I know will criticize me just for writing this post, because it doesn’t help anyone, especially myself. Know that I am the most self-conscious person that I know, and insecurities were apart of my last relationship’s demise. I loathe my body, although I’m really trying to ‘like’ it. Loving it is too much to ask for right now. Fuck – I’d settle for an ‘it’s okay’, but I’m not even there yet. Know that I have a fucked up mindset. Like, more fucked up than that one time Karen Smith wore a vest. I also try and be funny – I like to think I succeed, but sometimes I don’t, and my wittiness just isn’t up to par. Know that I love giving blow jobs, and if you’re a guy who doesn’t care for blow jobs, chances are I won’t trust you and I’ll never date you. Know that I am thee pickiest eater you will ever meet. No, seriously. If I was in a plane crash, and the only way to survive was to eat someone, I’d die…
Know that I can be such a fucking bitch, but I’m a really caring person. And if I care about you, I’ll do whatever it takes to show you that and make you happy. However, also know that I’ve had my heart broken, so as cliché as this sounds, a part of me will never be quite the same. I’ll be smarter and know better than to put someone else’s happiness before mine. Know that I can be high maintenance, but I’m also not a materialistic person. I’m not going to lie and say that it doesn’t matter, because sometimes, it does. But I’d much rather prefer something with meaning and importance to you that represents me rather than clothes, shoes, or makeup. Know that I dislike meeting new people because I have a fear that they’ll end up not liking me. Know that I am in love with scary movies, and even if you’re not but you’re willing to watch them, then that says a lot about you. Good for you. Know that I love to bake. And if I become really cool with your friends and or family, I will bake for them on their birthday. And I’ll end up incorporating something they love. Oh, and It’ll most likely be cupcakes. Also know that I personally don’t really care for cupcakes, or dessert in general, I have to be in the mood for it, yet I bake all this shit. Know that I swear a lot, and every other word that comes out of my mouth is ‘fuck’. I’ve been told that I have a ‘guy’s sense of humor’…maybe that’s because I’m perverted and have a dirty mind. I mean, you can make anything dirty if you try hard enough. Know that I absolutely love rainy//gloomy days. They’re the best. Know that I am kind of socially awkward, although I’m not at all when I’m drunk. Know that I absolutely hate dancing, which is ironic because I used to do ballet, jazz, hip-hop, and Irish dance, but I just can’t dance. Unless I’m drunk – I will definitely dance like the white girl that I am when I’m drunk. So, if you ever plan on asking me to dance, make sure I’ve had a few shots of tequila. And some other shots of anything couldn’t hurt, either. Know that I love sharks, I love zombies, I love skulls, I love blood and guts and gore. I love morbid, macabre, disturbing shit. I don’t like sports, though. However, if you’re into something, then I will genuinely take an interest in it. Well, if I like you that much. Know that I know what I deserve. I would never legitimately speak ill of my ex boyfriend, for he was an amazing boyfriend. And I thank him for that – for setting the bar. Now I know what I deserve. There have been some guys I’ve met, but have stopped talking to because it’s not worth my time. Why am I going to sit here and put in effort when you’re not. Know that I have a lot to say about a lot of things. I frequently accidentally have a habit of making people feel uncomfortable. I really don’t mean to. I guess it’s just what I say and how I say it. Know that if I start to fall in love with you, or really like you, I will probably once in a while, or more often than I’d like to admit, send you a message or write you a letter stating how great you are and all that shit. And I warn you. Know that I can be a complicated individual. And the fact that I have a vagina just makes matters worse. Know that grammar is extremely important to me. So is punctuation. Know that my mom and I are very close and that I tell her everything. Know that I say and do things that I probably shouldn’t. . . such as writing this very post. That’s pretty much it for now.


5 thoughts on “For Anyone Who Dates Me

  1. I felt like for the majority of this post, I was writing it. I’m the same way in a lot of ways. I was reading it, and was like “shit, man….my life.”

      • Exactly! And that’s one of the main reasons I started to blog. I just used to write all this shit down in my journal, but it just feels better typing it out and letting people read it…to me, I feel like I get it off my chest better than when I’m just writing in my journal.

      • Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I used to be a lot less vocal and not as opinionated, but then I grew up lol. That’s why writing is so important to me, and why I want to be a writer, because as delusional as this sounds, I want to be relatable, and be the person who says what other people can’t. That’s why I write that short story series about vaginas. Like, we are all thinking, wondering, and worrying about the same shit when it comes to sex and the organs that play a part in it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s