He might just be the<\/strong> guy. Or as close as I’m ever going to get. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Why do I think that? It’s a million things. It’s one thing. It’s none of the things and all of the things. I can’t explain it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n When I got on tinder, it was not for this. This is not what I was looking for. This is not what I was ready for. This is not possible. But here we are all the same. we found each other. He found me, I found him. Because, in its infinite wisdom, the universe decided this girl and that boy needed to be together. <\/p>\n\n\n\n This isn’t how my life works. I don’t ever get what I want.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is my life:<\/p>\n\n\n\n So I’m feeling a lot of trepidation. Maybe he is my cookie, my sweet perfect delicious cookie. And I’m so happy. But I’m about to be kicked in the shin. And then have my sweet cookie taken away. I need to be careful that I don’t make it happen by being so scared of it happening. Maybe “fake it till you make it” works both ways. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I have a choice here. Continue questioning his feelings and live in a state of constant disbelief, fear and anxiety. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Or just f\u00facking accept that he likes me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n why is it so hard to believe that a quality man could find me desirable? Why can’t he think I’m cute? Funny? Creative? Sexy? Is it possible that I am those things, and is it possible that a man exists who sees it? And not just any man. A man who makes me feel like I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. <\/p>\n\n\n\n MAYBE EVER. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I want whatever he gives me. His time, his attention, his caring, his everything. <\/p>\n\n\n\n You know what else? I like the way I am around him. I like what he brings out in me. He makes me feel calm and capable and safe. He makes me feel like the person I am in my head. That means something right? <\/p>\n\n\n\n I don’t want to be hurt. It feels inevitable. But honestly, I think whatever pain will surely come is worth what I’m feeling now. Life is short. I’m gonna grab all the joy I can while I still can. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Soooo. I may have overreacted. I forget that everyone else is not as crazy and lunatic as I am. After being intimate last night (for the first time in AGES),… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3294","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-random"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3294","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3294"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3294\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3300,"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3294\/revisions\/3300"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3294"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3294"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3294"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.loafe.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/07\/img_5786.jpg\")
<\/figure>\n\n\n\n