You're killing me, Austen! You're killing me!

Maybe I should have spaced out these posts on being single; consecutively they seem a bit redundant and self-centered, but let me reiterate this post is three years old.  Also, I don't have a crush on anyone...save my Mom another phone call. 

I find that I my imagination has a mind of its own. It sets me up for disappointment every time I go somewhere, convinced someone will profess their love for me or ask me out or touch my hand. I blame you Jane; it’s your entire fault. You put these Romantic notions in my head.

Otherwise, the scenario would be me going to my guy friend’s house just to watch a movie. There should be no expectations there but instead I imagine going into the house, getting a hug, sitting next to him on the couch and there being that kind of electricity pulling us together like the Science Class Scene in the Twilight Book (it’s the only example I could think of, forgive me). That is far from what happened and I knew it wouldn’t go that way but my hope longed for that scenario. Why do I set myself up for disappointment? Why do we do that to ourselves? How can we stop it? If this were one of Jane’s books, something would have happened, anything.

I would rather see what plays out and be surprised or in my case, what doesn’t play out and not disappointed. I want to see how my love story plays out because I know it will be better than anything my imagination can cook up, mainly because it will be real. So why can’t we wait to see what happens?

Instead of fighting it, I thought about just giving in to my crush and saying…”OK, Yeah. I have a crush on this guy. Let’s see what happens.” But I will inevitably be hurt because I am always hurt and I bring it on myself. He won’t have slighted me on purpose, well hopefully. But I will feel slighted nonetheless. I will feel alone and rejected and he will be none the wiser.

It will be a one sided lovers quarrel; A one sided break up, and my heart will turn a little more to stone without anyone ever intentionally hurting it. I become a little more bitter with every crush and a little more hateful towards men, which is not fair to them. And then my Do Not Disturb sign on my forehead becomes bigger than it was before.

Jane, What have you done to me? In what I assume was an attempt to cure your personal pangs of disappointed love, you created my love story downfall.