The friend zone exists for women. It’s called the fuck buddy
zone, and its where I seem to live. I detest the fact that sometimes, just
sometimes, when I am very, very low I abandon all morals, in the way that
people seem to abandon their respect for me, and I lose respect for myself: I
find solace in one night stands and booty calls. And that's fine. I have female
genitalia and I like sex. Its cool. It cheers me up, who wouldn't it?
Problem is, I find myself looking for emotional support more and more. I have cried out to the wrong people before, and worst still, when I wanted to feel loved, I found myself on dates with people I found repulsive, partaking in sex that left me feeling sick and arranging to meet up with a boy who had a girlfriend. That's when I realized that, although everyone else is absolutely disgusting, I am not, and I don't have to sink to their level, just like how I don't have to change my looks or ways to be loved, I by no means have to put up with being the other person. I am no home wrecker, and while I may say that I want companionship I am willing to wait for that special someone: not exchange conversation for sexual favors, and by no means with a taken man.
The next time I want sex, I will go out and get it: it’s not at all hard to find. But the next time I want to feel loved, I will have a bubble bath, paint my nails, and re- read this diary and all of my other inner most thoughts, just so that I know that someone cares: I care. It is high time I started to care about myself. I need to care about my safety, what sort of company, in friendship and otherwise that I want to keep, and especially my mental health. What even better is that I don't want anything sordid from myself for the time I spend with myself.
Problem is, I find myself looking for emotional support more and more. I have cried out to the wrong people before, and worst still, when I wanted to feel loved, I found myself on dates with people I found repulsive, partaking in sex that left me feeling sick and arranging to meet up with a boy who had a girlfriend. That's when I realized that, although everyone else is absolutely disgusting, I am not, and I don't have to sink to their level, just like how I don't have to change my looks or ways to be loved, I by no means have to put up with being the other person. I am no home wrecker, and while I may say that I want companionship I am willing to wait for that special someone: not exchange conversation for sexual favors, and by no means with a taken man.
The next time I want sex, I will go out and get it: it’s not at all hard to find. But the next time I want to feel loved, I will have a bubble bath, paint my nails, and re- read this diary and all of my other inner most thoughts, just so that I know that someone cares: I care. It is high time I started to care about myself. I need to care about my safety, what sort of company, in friendship and otherwise that I want to keep, and especially my mental health. What even better is that I don't want anything sordid from myself for the time I spend with myself.
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