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Sure I don’t care if you like me

March 17, 2010

Jokes, always jokes are an armour of sorts. And smiling. And compliments. I have a fur encased hammer that I will bop you over the head with over and over until you acquiesce and say you love me. Say it! Say it I say.

Do you want a present? Can I help you with something? Do you need to be serenaded? I work so hard on the people who I am not sure of. Like running on a  treadmill. Indifference would be a relief but there is no balm that can cover that need. That need to be liked.

I wish my desires would come out in gestures like homemade cookies, just  a kind word or a favor like feeding your cat. It comes out all slutty and flirtatious instead. I might just ask you to make out. Which, frankly, I have come to realize is just a little bit scary but I can’t seem to help it.

That nagging notion that maybe it just some form of mental illness yet to be defined by a specific personality disorder won’t go away. It’s always in the back of my mind while I smile and cajole and wistfully wish that you like me, you really like me.

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6 Comments leave one →
  1. Debbi permalink
    March 17, 2010 12:46 pm

    I love you, and like you, and you don’t have to do anything at all for it (though you CAN make me cookies, if it will make you feel better).

  2. March 17, 2010 1:23 pm

    Thanks.

  3. March 19, 2010 1:56 am

    I like you. And I feel this, love this blog.

  4. gina permalink
    March 28, 2010 5:56 am

    i love you lots
    if you insist, i will make out w/you
    will accept cookies also

    miss you and can. not. wait. for. summer.

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