If I Were a Boy

If I were a boy, I think I could understand how it feels to love a girl. I swear I’d be a better man. I’d listen to her, because I know how it hurts when you lose the one you wanted, because he’s taken you for granted. I’d put myself first and make the rules as I go, because I know that she’d be faithful and waiting for me to come home.

Last week, I learned about "Penis Envy" in Psychology 100. I find this concept both ridiculous, as well as correct. I feel like I would be far more superior as a man. I would be an above average boyfriend, performer, scholar, etc.

I would treat a girl so right.
I wish those who are lucky enough to be a man would learn to dig into their talents and opportunities and show us girls some mercy and understanding. What I wouldn't love to be showered in affection and protection.

But you’re just a boy and you don’t understand. You wish you were a better man, but you don’t listen to her. You don’t care how it hurts until you lose the one you wanted, cause you’ve taken her for granted. But you’re just a boy.

Where am I Going?

At best, this week can be defined as an alteration of my romantic fantasies. This has been brought to my attention in ways most unsuited for my emotions' rest. Symptoms include, but are not limited to, low self-esteem, dazing off, and a feeling of general worthlessness. One might inquire what brings a shiny, happy person with a heart the size of a dinner plate to teeter-totter on the fulcrum of the subject that is love. Well, it is not the work of a gentleman that leaves my heart uneasy, but that of an unreasonably simple boy.

I am convinced, under some restrictions, that he does not yet know what it is to stumble straight into love. Who am I to blame him? I know little more than he does. Is it perhaps my own idiocy that has led me to believe I have fallen from heaven into the arms of a savior? To expect not only my broken wings to be tenderly loved, but the parts of me that are fully in tact as well is almost selfish.

My hands are too small for his and my thoughts, while bright, don't offer much stimulation by the time they fall from my mouth. The words are a cascading waterfall of inferior topics. His thoughts are rarely articulated, his feeling even less. Do I overcompensate?

Where will this path that I have chosen lead me?
I fear a dead-end, but I'm hesitant to turn back. I've put so much faith in this choice already.

If only he could convince me of my choice and give me something to work towards-but even he doesn't know at the end of the road. He doesn't even know what he wants to be there.

I guess I'll just keep walking until I'm tired.

Privacy

It is the thought

Of naivety,

And pregnant bliss

That one may

S

T

U

M

B

L

E

Upon such a soul,

That may exist

In the heart of hearts,

And the greatest

of Kingdoms: Love

.

You have reached the blog of:

Katrina Robinson.

Please leave a message if you would like to be added.

Thank you and have a good day.

:)