And so I tell myself to stop flirting, to stop being sparkly and touchy and to STOP making weak and unattractive men think I love them just for the sake of playing "the game". I make myself sick sometimes. And while I was younger it was understandable, but I'm almost 23 now and I can see that playing with people's emotions and leading them on and breaking their hearts is pretty much the worst thing a girl like me can do.
So I try not to, I really do. I try and try and try to reign myself in, to not be the centre of attention, to not laugh so loud or bat my  eyelashes.
But sometimes. Once in a while I mean. It's like I just can't help it, I reach a breaking point for my patience and then I flirt and twirl and suggest emotions without meaning them, but it's all done tiredly, almost wearily, as if forced to play an old part in a production that was good, once, but isn't anymore.
Yet they still buy it, those young guys still lap it all up, the attention and the blushes. And some mean and shallow part of me wants to whine and say But they are so blind! Why shouldn't you rob someone who is so intent on looking the other way?

Truth and Bravery

I want to write what is true, and what is brave, a la Hemmingway.
Here is a truth:
I am not in love with anyone, not anymore at least.  (true)
Here is a brave:
I don't know if I ever will be. (brave)
Together, they secure my future serenity. I have experienced love, oh yes, but I am not experiencing heartbreak at the moment. Together, they equal excellence. I am rolling along on roller skates.

I have consumed a beer. Oh dear.