Emotional Banter
This has got to be by far, the most unnerving point of my life. Unnerving meaning flummoxed and distracted and unable to concentrate. If I weren’t twenty five and exchanging emotional banter inbetween motherly hugs with Margarita, you would think I was Alzheimer’s-ey. If there is such a word. I have been really anxious lately that I have been hiccuping twice on one night. The sharp stabs of pain on my right abdomen doesn’t help either. I feel so old.
I somehow think that everything is going wrong and even if I’d try to make things right, I’d still end up a whooping failure. Everything is a bad joke with me as the rising star. Worse, I can’t do anything right. It’s not even funny that some people mistook my friendliness for some boyfriend-snatching tactic (Oh, please!) or my acts of kindness for weakness and my lability for either shrewdness or silent animosity. It’s insane! It’s enough to make me question myself. Am I somehow sending these people wrong signals? Am I subconsciously trying to antagonize them? I always tell myself I don’t care what they think, which is pretty much most of the time. But somehow, sooner or later It gets to you. And then those little insecurities would creep right back in. I’d step back and examine the whole scenario and hypothesize . Sure, I’d make mistakes. I’m not perfect afterall. But goodness, can’t a girl just be herselF without being judged?
Sometimes I wonder if i’ll ever get to live life without the feeling of walking on eggshells or still voice out opinions without being misquoted, or better yet, shopping whenever or for whatever without much eyebrow-raising. I am not a loner, I refuse to be one. I enjoy my friends’ company and I honest to goodness hope that they enjoy mine. So, I guess there is no reason for me, or us– to stay in the same damn apartment complex and wait it out till everyone decides DIPLOMACY IS THE BEST POLICY. Besides, the thought of doing my laundry at any time in my own place, sure damn suits me fine.
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