Posted in Being Vulnerable

Dating me

I imagine dating me is like constantly changing lanes on the highway while watching a car crash.

I’m a zero to one hundred kind of gal.

What can I say?

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 19

It slides down like butter

Hot

And

Burning.

And there come the goosebumps

The heavy breathing

The release

All I want is to not regret it

The taste of you

Hot Cheetos

Was worth this painful poo

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 18

And just like that

I got rejected.

By another one.

Damn sensitive American girls.

And I can say that!

I’m American.

She thinks we’re not a good fit because on Friday she went to an event I went to and I didn’t sit with her.

Talk about unreasonable.

And no, she wasn’t alone.

She came with all her friends who were visiting from out of town. Our table was full. She had to find another table and I didn’t sit with her.

I’m sorry I fucked up.

In all honesty, I thought she was fine. She was catching up with her friends. But no, the girl got upset.

Now she doesn’t want to be friends.

Literally this is insane to me.

I actually apologized too.

I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. I honestly thought she was fine hanging with all of her friends.

But nope.

She’s done.

Just dropped me.

And I’m a good fucking friend!

Literally when I was in college, I walked out of a class for my friend Catherine because she text me saying she needed me.

Yeah, I’m that girl.

I’ll move mountains for you if I have to.

And she drops me because I didn’t sit with her?

Such a fucking quitter.

And you know what sucks, it fuckin hurts.

Even though it’s unreasonable, the rejection still hurts.

I actually even cried when I got home.

Yeah, I can be a damn sensitive American too.

But you know what?

I’m not giving up.

I know my best friend is out there somewhere and I’m not closing up shop just because one girl can’t get over the fact I didn’t sit with her and all her friends.

I’m not miss hosty, okay.

You’re an adult. You can manage yourself at an outdoor concert.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 17

What is this desperate feeling?

I have everything I need.

My dog. My dude. The sun. The beach.

All the comforts in the world

And yet here I am continuing to reach out.

Are my dreams of friendship unrealistic or borderline Hollywood?

I want someone I see every week.

A friend to grow with.

To learn from.

To laugh with.

And I have beautiful friends here.

But I feel I always initiate.

And I’m starting to think that is my burden to bare in order for me to meet my friend quota.

But it does hurt a bit.

Not feeling wanted.

I know people are busy.

They have partners and other friends and work and all the bullshit we all have.

I guess it’s just easier when you live with your friends or live in the same neighborhood as them.

I lived with my friend Sarah for two years back home so it was easy to become best friends with her.

Friends through convenience I guess.

Why are people so fucking lazy now days?

Anyways, here’s me telling the universe I would like a best friend in Sydney who is responsive and initiates drinks and wants to go on trips and who wants to go deep man. Because I’m ready for that deep friendship here.

Amen.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 13

I’m speechless.

I come home exhausted and defeated after a two hour walk with my psycho dog

And there in the house is my boyfriend.

My boyfriend who is suppose to be at the job site.

The boyfriend I just got off the phone with.

He’s in the house.

With a bouquet of roses, dinner made, candle lit and music playing.

I’m not joking.

I started crying.

I was so shocked at this huge display of love.

I lost it.

Sometimes a person’s love for you will do that.

It will just sneak up on you and reintroduce itself.

Hey Brooke, my name is love.

We met a while ago, but you’ve gotten a bit comfortable and have forgotten me so I thought I’d reintroduce myself.

It was gentle.

Soft.

And the biggest relief to have dinner made.

Because Fuck I love food.

And he nailed it.

Truly, I am so honored to be his partner in this lifetime.

What a fucking legend.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 12

So far, I’ve met two Americans through facebook this week.

Both very lovely women.

Both married.

And I hope they last.

I mean, I hope our friendship lasts.

This is always my fear.

Rejection

Or even worse

Apathy.

I’m always the initiator in relationships.

I am always searching for that Grey and Yang relationship.

And I actually found it once, in North Carolina, with my roommate Sarah.

But can I find it here?

Will someone let me be their Grey?

Because I miss sleepovers damn it!

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 11

I get it now.

The drinking

The writing

The addiction

It feels good to write intoxicated.

I feel free

Uninhibited

And yet I’m lucky

I don’t have the addiction bug

Like my father

Like my brother

Like all the men in my family

Is it a man thing?

I don’t know

But I’m lucky

I know when to stop

Thank god

Or the devil

For skipping me

I appreciate it.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 10

So I’ve been called a sadist.

But I’d like to describe it more as

A controllist.

I like to believe I have the upper hand.

But what this person doesn’t know

Is this is my wall talking.

He doesn’t know I’m full of shit

He doesn’t see me crumble

in therapy

Or cry with joy from being loved for three years by the most forgiving man I’ve ever met.

He doesn’t know me.

He tried to pull that perceptive card,

But I’ve met his like before.

Confident on the outside

Insecure on the inside.

Like all of us.

So don’t tell me, you can read me.

Because I know you’re no fly on the wall.

You’re just like every other psychology cock sucker thinking you’re the next Freud.

So bye boy.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 7

Today I’ve been thinking about home.

Craving familiarity.

I’ve been listening to country music.

Christian music even though I’m not Christian anymore.

Ya it got that bad. 😂

Craving mac and cheese

Tacos

Friends

My whole being is feeling this pull to reconnect with Americans again.

Being in Australia, I’ve only met 3 Americans.

One was a flake.

The second was too loud.

And the third is an adorable Cuban from Florida who is also very loud but we were able to work on it.

Other than that, I’ve met only Brits and Asians.

And don’t get me wrong, they’re very lovely people. But the Brits want to hang more with the Brits and their slang always throws me for a loop anyways.

So my only friends are Asian. And they’re amazing lovely women, but we can’t relate on everything. There are certain things I want to say, but I know they won’t understand.

Just like any group of people, your group knows you. They see you. They can relate with you.

And I miss that.

So I problem solved.

Where can I find Americans in Sydney?

Facebook.

So here I am today, posting on Facebook if any Americans in the city want to hang.

I don’t care if I sound desperate.

Because if you’re on facebook, you’re desperate too.

We’re all fuckin desperate for friendship and making the first move is my forte anyways.

So if you’re out there Americans, I just wanna say hey!