Heartbreak of all Heartbreaks

I have had my fair share of heartbreaks over my 22 years of love. You know it first starts with the heartbreak of having to share your favorite barbie doll that’s hair changes from a hot pink to a calm lavender color in the water and whose name is Emma Lynn (just theoretically speaking of course). Then you gradually move up to the days of heartbreak from stupid boys who have no regards for your heart at all.

But it was not till year 22 that I experienced the worst heartbreak of them all. It’s the post grad breakup. You know… the break up that you know has been coming all of senior year and that you both have in fact agreed upon earlier in the semester. What you didn’t realize when you made that agreement 6 months ago was that you would completely fall in love with him and cry for dayz and dayz after you left him.

Why is this the worst kind of heart break you ask.

Because there is no reason for it except that you are both trying to figure out your post grad lives. You never fight and when you do you can never stay mad for more than a day. He balances you out and keeps you grounded and you bring out his wild side and keep him on his toes.

You are in fact perfect for each other, but life is for some reason pushing you apart.

This is what I am currently dealing with and doing a horrible job at it I must say (tissues and chocolate are currently my best friend). See normally I would turn on some T-Sweezy, built a bridge and get over it as discussed in one of my previous posts (Heartbreak Hangover), but I have no anger towards him and no want to get over it. All I have is a need to curl up in bed next to him with a Cookout milkshake (Oreo Cheesecake to be exact) and Netflix and to let him tell me that everything is going to be okay.

I guess I will just continue to take one day at a time and keep all my fingers (and toes) crossed with hopes that life will lead us back to one another… sooner than later… cause this truly is the worst kind of heartbreak I have ever felt.

xoxo,

That girl.

Love me Tinder?

There are apps for everything… waking you up at a prime time in your sleep cycle, figuring your tip at restaurants, and there is even an app that claims to gauge your sexual performance.

But how about the latest dating app… Tinder. Immature and desperate or genius and helpful?

In my boredom of my summer internship and lame nights at home with the rents I decided to download it… I mean why not? I am up for some awkward conversations with guys trying to swoon me over text enough to accomplish their goal which is probably to get in my pants. (Granted yes that is an assumption, but let’s be real… it is usual true even in person).

In case you are not up on the deal with Tinder here are the high points:

It shows you profiles of people within your area that you set.

You either like the person or dislike them. If you both like each other (based off of 5 photos and a short about me) then you are told that you are a match and you can message each other.

Sounds genius right? You don’t have to worry about the fear of rejection because the person only gets notified of your response if you both like each other. I mean clearly some people think so.

As I flip through and get matched with guys I get the most creative pickup lines (most that deserve silence in response) like this gem:

Ummm…. Can I pick 5?

The problem with these dating apps like Tinder is when does it ever go anywhere? Yeah you flirty text for awhile and you might even get a one night stand out of it if that is what you are going for, but is that really what you are searching for? Are you really going to meet that guy from Tinder?

This right here is the problem for girls and Tinder… Meeting a random guy that we have been awkwardly texting and stalking on social media sites for the past 2 weeks is just not likely. The unknown is what holds women back and with online dating and dating apps there will always be some unknown.

I am on day 3 with my Tinder app and it will probably be the last… I don’t see anyone “loving me Tinder” any time soon. I think I will stick with the bars and blind dates from grandma for now.

xoxo,

That girl.

Hell. No.

“You’re next.”

If you are in your twenties and live in the south… yeah you’ve heard it. As I roam around my brother’s wedding (mainly there for chocolate fountain and endless amounts of strawberries) it seems as though everyone was sure I was destined for marriage next. Everyone but me that is.

I don’t know what it is about the south. To have such a slow and laid back way of life, southerners are really fast to get hitched. My brother got married at the young age of 22 and now it seems everyone is looking at me (now 21) to find that special someone. We’ll here is what I have to say to them:

How bout hell no?

No, I will not get married to the first guy who pays me attention. I will wait for the man (key word man) that is up to all of my standards.

No my priority is not on getting married, but on being able to depend on myself. I will focus on success and making a life for myself and the right man will come along.

No I will not go hunt him down or go on 50 blind dates that my grandmother has so graciously set me up with because she thinks she is never going to get grandchildren.

I am 21. My priority in not marriage or finding a man. It’s me. Just me. I will find happiness and success within myself. I will enjoy my single years of drinking at bars and flirting with the bartender.

To all you 20 somethings that are determined to find love: Take a deep breath. Enjoy the life around you and love will come. You are not doomed because you are not hitched by 22. Don’t listen to the southern grandmothers nudging you at weddings and telling you that you’re next. Just do you.

To the south: Chill the fuck out. Marriage is supposed to be based on love, not a timeline of what your life is supposed to look like.

Rant over.

xoxo,

That girl.