if you'd only just realize . . .

Do you know what one of my favorite things is? Words. Roots, meanings, sentences, thoughts, the ability to fit words to every circumstance and scenario of life. And simply put, I like definition.
This may be one of my enjoyments, but also my worst enemy. Do you realize how difficult it can be to want to define every moment, every emotion, every feeling, and even every thought? Or the struggle it can be to want to have my life defined by my actions, the friends I keep close, the very real need to understand and comprehend things enough to put them on paper, in writing?
Things don't become real to me, truth to me, until I can write them. And scary enough is the fact that most of the time when I sit and pick up a pen, my heart speaks on paper before it ever is known in my head.
So tonight, in this early morning madness, I'm writing.

As much as I hate writing about myself, I've decided I need to get over it. If people want to know me, why a not? What have I got to lose by holding anything back? Absolutely nothing. I'd rather be known for who I really am. The things I really love. What I really think.

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So this is one of those times that I look at myself quite transparently and need to do some self-admitting. I watched a movie a bit ago. Brittany fell asleep on the floor, snoring, and I must say that even tho I used to think I could never marry someone who snored... I find it oddly acceptable. But that's beside the point...
What I am admitting is that I am a substitute.
:"a person or thing that takes the place or function of another" [right out of my good friend Webster]
Do I really need to elaborate on this subject? It's somewhat of an weird yet slightly comfortable realization to be making. Comfortable because knowing it almost gives me some sense of empowerment to change it, to change me. I will say I can pretty much limit it to my guy friendships/ relationships. I started thinking back, and even now, noticing all the stupid expectations I had. Since when did I ever begin thinking I needed a guy, any guy, to define me in some way? Even my guy friends, who mostly are only still friends with me out of some sense of obligation b/c we've known each other for so long... don't in any way express the need/want to be closer. If anything, I just know they'll be around b/c they always have, and my expectations have just exceeded that knowledge. So I become the one seeking more, never being satisfied with where we are, looking for every small bit of reassurance that we're moving... somewhere, anywhere. But we're stopped at a dead end, both staring out ahead, not wanting to turn and look behind us, or move away, refusing to lose touch with each other. And every now and then we give in, and let go, and see each other a little bit clearer. But neither one of us confides in the other anymore. We just co-exist within this mode of obligation. I want relationships and friendships to just be. To not consistently feel forced.
I don't want to be the substitute any longer. I really hate it actually. So this is me saying I quit. I'm letting go. I'll always care, everyone knows that. I'm a sucker for helping, for loving, for being around. But it is all useless when that same level of caring and respect is never returned. No one likes being the fool in any circumstance.

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:: If it's not real, I'd rather have nothing at all. ::