Boys, boys, boys.
Why is it that 99% of the boys I’d date are at least three years older than me. The thing is I’m not talking about movie stars or super-models here. I’m talking about decent, attractive, funny, nice, boy-friend material guys. I mean, where are they? Age is just a number in my book, unless you’re a pedophile, and I’m already way ahead of my years. I’ve got a level-head. I know right from wrong. I’m human and I need to be loved. Right now I’d kill to be in love, and in a mildly boring, but decent relationship. But maybe that’s why I can’t find a guy my age. All of those guys aren’t stable enough for my unstable self and I’m not looking for an on-off, drama filled fuck fest. It kills me. It’s not me, it’s them. I’m completely open to a relationship. But it’s everyone else that seems to have problems. I don’t think they can handle me and my unearthly desire to not cause drama. So I’m left here “working on myself emotionally” until these guys can grow up or I decide to take a risk.
Excuse my horrible writing. I’m just getting back into this.
-Rosemary Paige
