Seriously, heed the title. This is essentially me talking to myself to try to figure out... Stuff. I guess. Again, feel free to ignore. Rest assured it won't be very interesting.
I suppose I could be called a romantic. I mean, I enjoy the idea of being a romantic relationship. The problem being, of all the relationships I've had, all but one fizzled out within a month. The aforementioned exception, what I regard as my first real relationship, lasted for three months before we made a mostly agreed-upon decision to simply be friends. The point being, I haven't really had any fulfilling romantic endeavors. I know that I'm only 16, and I have plenty of time ahead of me, but I've never been known for being patient.
To elaborate upon my earlier statement, it's not really just that I enjoy the idea of a romantic relationship. Moreover, it's that I'm often stricken with bouts of acute loneliness which I am helpless to combat. Those nights (as they usually are) I often spend curled up in my bed with my teddy bear in an attempt to give myself some measure of comfort. Yes, I sleep with a stuffed bear. Moving on.
I guess I just... Don't understand why I should have to wait for happiness, y'know? My social ineptitude doesn't help, making it so I can hardly talk to guys whom I don't really know, let alone even think about flirting or anything. Especially with the layer of risk added by, as one might have gathered, my orientation. Given all of the circumstances, it's safe to assume I won't be entering a relationship any time soon. Which is likely the cause of my occasional lonely nights.
Again, you really didn't need to read this, and I'm submitting this under the hope that most people won't, but since I've already written it, I don't have anything else to do with it and don't really want to delete it. So, yeah. Hope you enjoyed your glimpse into the life of a romantic machine.