Even Superman Has His Kryptonite


Hey guys! I am so sorry for failing to post yesterday, but it was my first day home, my friends threw me a party, and I will never be the girl too busy with writing about my friends to actually spend time with them.
With that said, another reason I didn’t post anything, is because I had nothing inspiring and uplifting to say. As a matter of fact, if one of you wants to inspire or uplift me, that would be great because yesterday was a train wreck. July 17th holds so many good memories that it almost hurt to live that day in such a mediocre fashion this year. It just started off bad with a call from the boy who first made July 17th one of the best days of my life. In that call, there was a brutal reminder that my heart is on a sinking ship, with a microscopic chance of staying afloat. That ship being him and I.

He didn’t say it in a mean way and I knew he was right, but it hurt… It really hurt. It hurt me to the point that I decided I was going to disconnect myself and dip my toes back into the life I had before he came back. Long story short, that ended up hurting too. I hung out with my friends, had a couple of drink, and was reminded in the most awful way ever that I am not that kind of girl. I’m not the girl that has the magical super powers that make men want to be “nice” to me, I’m not the girl who “enjoys” mediocre conversation, and I’m really not the girl who likes to feel rejected. Last night, I went to sleep acknowledging that I had a good time, but wishing more than anything that my boy was sitting next to me.

Partying has never been my scene, and I don’t apologize for that. As a matter of fact, last night was kind of a reminder as to why I don’t like to party. I have three drunk girl modes: sleepy, skanky, angry. Literally, in that order…I get tired, really flirty, and frustrated when I realize nothing is going to happen because that would be BAD. So needless to say, I went to sleep pretty angry, with the earlier words of my boy floating around my wine soaked brain, and wishing desperately that I could wake up to some random English style breakfast, with oddly made eggs, (I mean, who cooks eggs in a saucepan?!) and his million dollar smile telling me I look like a train wreck (because I do, and I can’t trust a boy that lies lol).

I talk a good game about self confidence, because I am one of the most confident woman there is… 90% of the time…but even Superman has his kryptonite. Rejection and heartache are mine, and feeling them both had me pretty down last night. I felt unlovable and so alone, while missing the boy who said those painfully honest words that morning. 


This was all a very sad cry of the state of my life compared to July 17th the last two years. In 2012 it was was the first day of my very first summer with him, and last year it was the day I was accepted by the guy every girl would give her right boob to be accepted by…this year… I was drunk, rejected by the one I love most (indirectly), and rejected by my attempt to forget it all.

I think you guys get the point, so I’m not going to carry on with this sob story because I promised I wouldn’t do this…but this is my blog, my writings, my feelings, my emotions, and like I said…they are all great 90% of the year, but today… I am the hungover girl that nobody loves, with the mega afro and smudged makeup. I’ll be back to spewing rainbows out of my face on Monday, because I do actually have some pretty great things happening in my mind/life at the moment, and I am quite excited to share them all.

But today, just for today, I am rejected, heartbroken, and slightly pathetic.



5 thoughts on “Even Superman Has His Kryptonite

  1. Wow. Super honest. I feel for you.
    It’s cool that you know yourself well enough to admit (and even accept) how you feel. It’s even cooler that you love yourself well enough to rally through it and come out as positive as ever tomorrow.
    Good on you, girl. Never cheapen yourself to a shallow party girl when you’re so much more than that.

  2. […] I hate it you guys. I hate feeling out of control, I hate feeling like crap the next morning, and I really don’t think it is necessary to have fun. Speaking of fun, I also don’t find your typical college party to be fun at all either. I’ve tried time and time again to understand what is so great about the whole experience and I just can’t. As a matter of fact, every time I came home from a college style party, I usually feel something like this. […]

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