I've said this before and I'll say it again. If my life were a romantic comedy, I'd have a supporting role at best. Or maybe a lengthy cameo appearance. But alas, nothing more.
Generally, I find it oh so trivial to complain about my encounters with love (or lack thereof). I know I am young and I know I have an entire life ahead of me. I know that high school is not an indication of my future. I know that my selection of boys is limited not only by personal preference but also by geography/exposure. And even though I "know" all of this, I cannot whole-heartedly accept it. I guess you could say I've longed for that quintessential high school relationship. Or even something simpler... a "thing" for lack of a better word. The entire concept of mutual attraction is something so foreign to me, so out of this galaxy. You can call me overly dramatic, but I refuse to be labeled as a "forever alone" teenage blogger. That is not the intention of this post.
Simply put, I am writing out of frustration. The feelings I harbor toy with my thoughts and play with my emotions. How can so much heartache spur from nothing?
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