Help me, I’m a desperate ho

So I’ve been trying my hardest to get a boyfriend since I started walking. Like, I was accused of stalking Dustin Little in kindergarten by his mother. I take love seriously. And since then, I haven’t had the greatest luck. My shortest relationship was a week because I convinced myself I liked a man that I didn’t find attractive because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. And my longest relationship was with a former soldier that I met at work. I was 17, he was 25. And I totally was in love with him. But he was way crazy. Now he’s married and has a kid. It seems everyone is getting married or engaged. So I decided to propel myself into the dark gloom of online dating. I had tried online dating before.I had done Tinder, Match.com, even a Bernie Sanders dating site (I mostly got women that didn’t read my ‘Preferences’ section. And I have been on a ton of dates. Mostly bad. And most of all, I’m kind of tired of being alone.

So I tried Bumble, an app that forces women to make the first move. It’s an interesting concept. The only problem was that no matter how many matches I got, no one was asking me out. In fact, sometimes they never responded. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and actually ask someone out. And he said yes!

Let’s call him George. I like that name. George works at Starbucks. He’s 25 and super cute. After our third date, I was so excited. Mwahahaha. After our fourth date, I was like, “Imma date this fool.” But he didn’t text me afterward. So like a spaz, I ‘casually’ walked into Starbucks today and tried to write my fucking play while glimpsing him through the bookshelf. And that’s where I am. Right now. When I went up for a drink, I tried to engage in conversation like a cool cat.

C: Hey! How are you?

G: Great. Just working.

C: I like your shirt.

G: Thanks.

C: What are you doing after work?

G: Working out then packing.

C: Ah.

G: You work at Roadhouse?

C: Yeah.

G: Cool.

C: …Okay, I will see you later.

 

Can’t you see I am dying slowly, George? A woman has needs. Every time I get close to meeting someone nice and settling down, I get too excited. Like, finally I’ll be able to hold hands with someone on the sidewalk, go to weddings, have huge fights and great make-up sex. And have sex continually with one person is personally the Dream.

And this is why I am a desperate ho. With all of my actions, I beg someone to like me. I like anyone who is nice to me. I know I am desperate because I keep texting first, taking the initiative, etc. I am actually so desperate for love, I dreamt I had sex with my female roommate (let it be known, I have no roommate) and I had to pretend to like the sex because I didn’t want her to leave me. And now I am probably going to stay at this stupid Starbucks for two more hours to see if George will come over after his shift and talk to me. Please help me, world. I’m sick of being a desperate ho. I want to be a badass ho. My 15-year-old friend is ashamed of me.

 

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They always tell me god is an entity

I like to ask people what god looks like
and they always say the same thing—
God is an entity.

Not a man or woman but a thing that nurtures and surrounds us.
He—no, it is calm and complacent—
No! Not complacent…

Powerful. Powerful and benevolent and merciful. Never-changing.
They hold onto their breath before telling me this.

A boy (he was very smug as he looked at me) said Absolute Truths lead humanity.
Don’t you believe no one should be killed? That murder is wrong?
Some people say—
But what do you believe?
I don’t know! I don’t know! Does it matter? I am one
pot on a balcony that could overlook an amazon or an alley.
I need water and sun, and then we can talk about your Absolute Truths.

“life is sacred”

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I love my father very much
but when he said that all life began
at conception,
I felt like I had an unwanted child in my belly—not yet
a child—an alien

and he said I must birth it
and carry it with me,
let its rattle beat away my personality
until it is one shade: Motherhood
Always

I felt disgusted. The loves of my life
will be my children, I know. But daily
I wait for the condom to break
the ring to malfunction
the pill to disintegrate before it reaches my mouth

and my lover’s seed to flow into my vulnerable uterus and attack my baffled egg, who can’t fight him off
and my boyfriend will say
“Life is sacred.”

This is Not a Super Depressing Parental Divorce Post. Well, actually…

I wrote part of this coming back from Texas two days ago.


Tuesday Evening, July 29th, 2014. Texas. 

I wish I could say I felt some great pain when my parents finalized their divorce early this week. But honestly, I feel nothing. I don’t. Feel. Anything. This isn’t a change. This is a pebble a kid threw into a great big lake. There are ripples, certainly, but does this pebble graze the fish? Does it wound the frog? No. It settles amongst the millions of other pebbles in that vast lake that is my life.

Perhaps I should reminisce about the time my parents were happy—the times they kissed and held hands and talked late into the night before going to bed. I do not remember this. I have never known a time my parents loved each other, or showed affection. My oldest memory is a fight. I never heard my mom say she had ever loved my dad until I was 17. I first saw their wedding photos six months ago. The album was nestled in between the gardening handbook and a bird index.

Thursday, 2 AM, July 31st, 2014. Indiana.

No. When I said I felt nothing, it wasn’t quite true. I was numb. I was awaiting the blow. But when Mom. Nate and I got home, we discovered that the papers were incomplete; therefore it isn’t finalized. They are the most ridiculous ‘married couple’ I’ve ever known. And the odd thing is that I had prepared for an obstacle, and I found myself relieved when it appeared. I do not want this to happen. I do not want this change. A part of me wants it to go on as before; the fights and the insults that hide the resentment and hurt. Perhaps I’m a sadomasochist…

When I was in middle school, my mother got me What A Girl Wants (VHS of course, because DVDs weren’t nearly as popular). In case you don’t know what it’s about:

Yeah, basically it’s the best teen movie ever.

I would watch this movie all the time, and crying, I’d think, “Why her and not me? Why does she get the happy ending? Where are my perfectly-in-love parents?” I mean, I would have loved the sexy British hunk, but that was not the priority when I was twelve.

Now, almost fourteen years after they separated, I still feel a twinge.

Wazzzzup

My name is Chloe, and I’m the type of person who is usually all talk and no walk. But today, I want to start that walk. I want to be more adventurous, and I want to share with you all the things I really love.

Here are the things I love:

  • Dogs (so much undeniable stupidity)
  • British Literature
  • My parents and ‘little’ bro
  • Easy Mac, for I am lazy
  • Mat Kearney
  • Antiquated words
  • Looking at babies
  • Sushi
  • Swashbuckling

Thanks, babes and bros. I’ll try to keep you entertained.