Yeah, that title isn't a joke and it means what it says. I like a boy. But I'm not suppossed to tell anyone. Because I'm not allowed to like him. Right?
What do I do? No don't answer that, because if I really wanted an answer through the internet, I would've just Googled it.
I think I'll be crucified when I post this but what this is my blog and you don't have to read it if you don't want to. (Yeah right. If I chicken out I'll delete it and deny it ever being posted).
But there's this male right, who I like right, and that's it.
Although that's not it. That's never just it. Because if you are a female as dramatic as I am (I have never described myself as that but I think it's an accurate description. And I don't wear it proudly), then maybe you can empathise that liking someone is not. that. simple.
I laugh at those girls on teen dramas how they fuss over whether they should call the dude or not or whether txting would be more appropriate. I mock those girls when they pretend to go to all the hang-out spots he likes and pretend to be into the stuff he's into just to so that they can talk to him. I roll my eyes when they talk with their friends hours on end about that time HE LOOKED AT HER. OH MY GOODNESS. ACTUAL EYE CONTACT. EVEN A SLIGHT SMILE. HYPERVENTILATION!!
Yeah, I laugh at them. 'Losers' I say to myself. Those stupid girls with their head in the infatuation clouds.... But inside... inside I know I'm just like them. I'm the same hormone-filled teenager who turns dumb as soon as the XY species are concerned.
I can't help it though.
Maybe I can. But I don't want to help it. Not really.
Which is really silly. But that's the effect of infatuation. I don't want to reason against it. It all feeling and barely any thinking. I floods my thoughts and I could think about it all day. No kidding. I could talk about it all day too if I wasn't so embarrassed. But I am. Because liking boys is wrong. Boyfriends are not allowed till I move out of the house and any contact with them even a toe over the platonic line will be followed by an avalanche of punishment.
So who can I go to sort out these feelings. I'm too scared to admit they exist let alone tell someone (which is ironic because I'm telling you). I'm over analytical and the amount of analysing I've devoted to this subject (and I don't mean topic) is worrying me. I tell myself it'll pass... that I'll just ride it out till it fades. All feelings fade. Right? But this feeling keeps increasing. Because I keep feeding it. And the worst part about it is that I'm probably feeding it lies. Illusions. So my feelings are based on nothing but my own foolishness.
SEE WHAT HAPPENS TO ME WHEN I THINK ABOUT A BOY. It's not fun and it's happens way too many times.
And now I hold my breath to see how you, my reader, will react (because I always think about that when I post a blog).