Blood and Guts: Helena Lazaro

I.
Very soon I’ll see someone I haven’t seen in a long long time. I know they can’t stay. I find myself thinking ahead to when they’ll be gone again and how sad it will make me. I know it’s just a way to protect myself, but I often feel frustrated by my inability to “live in the moment” the way that some people do.

II.
Recently I decided that moving forward, when faced with the choice between half or nothing, I will choose nothing. Because I want it all, or not at all. After exercising this decision for the first time, I’m filled with a mixture of sadness and pride. Proud I set a standard for myself that I won’t compromise. Sad because a part of me still whispers, “You should have taken half!” I know that that part will eventually get tired of being ignored and leave. But until then I can’t help feeling a tiny pang of self-doubt. Like maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and taken what I could get.

III.
You know, when I write it out like that, it looks so ridiculous that the pang goes away.

IV.
If I got paid for scaring boys away, I’d be rich. Rich enough to commission a team of scientists to build me a fearless robot boy. But I bet a robot boy would not be as fun to kiss. Especially not as fun as a Cancer. So I guess it’s kind of a moot point.

Dear Jerks,

I don’t know if it’s me getting older, or more confident, or both–but I just don’t have time for your bullshit anymore. I’m not interested in chasing after you. I’m not going to spend an afternoon wondering why you haven’t called, or when you will call again, or what I did wrong. Because I didn’t do anything wrong.

I’m not interested alot of wait-and-see.  I don’t want to worry that by appearing interested, I’ll lose someone’s interest in me.  Doesn’t that seem backwards?  There’s no room in my life for these riddles, I’ve had enough of them.  Maybe you’re not looking for someone who is going to be that messy.  Maybe you’d like to meet someone who makes the right moves, makes herself unavailable, inaccessible.  Someone who manipulates you, keeps you guessing.  Someone who keeps her vulnerable, real parts tucked away.

If that’s the case, I wish you the best of luck.  But I’m not willing to spend another day of my life wondering if and when you’ll decide what you want from me.  You have the power to withhold things from me, to try to make me feel as if I have no choice but to wait. That I am powerless.  But the truth is that I have just as much power as you do…yes, you can decide when and where you’ll be available.  You can decide to be dishonest with me, or lead me on.  But I can decide that anyone who would employ these fucked-up dating torture-devices isn’t worth my time.

So thanks, it’s been real (kinda), but I’ve got someplace to be.

Dear Jerks,

I don’t know if it’s me getting older, or more confident, or both–but I just don’t have time for your bullshit anymore. I’m not interested in chasing after you. I’m not going to spend an afternoon wondering why you haven’t called, or when you will call again, or what I did wrong. Because I didn’t do anything wrong.

I’m not interested alot of wait-and-see.  I don’t want to worry that by appearing interested, I’ll lose someone’s interest in me.  Doesn’t that seem backwards?  There’s no room in my life for these riddles, I’ve had enough of them.  Maybe you’re not looking for someone who is going to be that messy.  Maybe you’d like to meet someone who makes the right moves, makes herself unavailable, inaccessible.  Someone who manipulates you, keeps you guessing.  Someone who keeps her vulnerable, real parts tucked away.

If that’s the case, I wish you the best of luck.  But I’m not willing to spend another day of my life wondering if and when you’ll decide what you want from me.  You have the power to withhold things from me, to try to make me feel as if I have no choice but to wait. That I am powerless.  But the truth is that I have just as much power as you do…yes, you can decide when and where you’ll be available.  You can decide to be dishonest with me, or lead me on.  But I can decide that anyone who would employ these fucked-up dating torture-devices isn’t worth my time.

So thanks, it’s been real (kinda), but I’ve got someplace to be.

Things I’m Bad At:
Waiting
Bullshit
Holding back
Playing games
Keeping my tongue
Pretending

Things I’m Good At:
Overanalyzing
Worrying
Openness
Sincerity
Vulnerability
Gut-spilling

It’s no wonder I’m a disaster when it comes to dating. There are all these…structures, this kind of obstacle course, that you have to go through in order to get anywhere. There’s a constant shifting of power. A delicate balance of disinterest and availability that must be struck. Seemingly endless multiple choice questions must be answered correctly in order to advance. The games are complicated, the rules unwritten. They mostly involve hiding our feelings, our fears. Expressing these things makes us weak, and therefore undesireable. So we’re supposed to just swallow them down and grope blindly, trying to pin the tail on this bullshit donkey.

This isn’t new territory. Not for me, or for you. It’s the same old story and I don’t know why I’m ever surprised. I guess it’s that sometimes I start to think I’ve struck a deal with someone, that neither of us is going to play, but it turns out that is, like, the ultimate move. Get them to believe you’re not playing…then leave them in the dust. And you might ask, Why? Why would someone do such a thing? Because fuck em, that’s why!

This guy was being a turd today and I was sad and hungry on the way home so I stopped at the market and I went in and got myself a tin of Vienna sausages. Actually I bought four. Vienna sausages are comfort food for me, because when I was little and my grandma made arroz con pollo there would be like ONE vienna sausage cooked in there for god knows what reason. It was like a prize. There was at least one occasion I fought with my sister over the salchicha. So I came home with my tins of processed meatsalts, put three away, and opened the remaining one with the intention of having A sausage but I guess I ate them all and now I’m not hungry for dinner and my stomach hurts.

The nice thing about being grown up is that you can have all the Vienna sausages or ice cream you want. The bad thing is that if you go overboard there’s no one to stroke your tummy counter-clockwise until it feels better.

I’m so glad there will be 4.5 days off soon.