Confession of a Flirtaholic
Have you ever been in a relationship? A lasting one? I’ve never. And the reason is, I get bored. Really. Easily.
I’ve had a total of 2 boyfriends. The first was short of 2 months; the second was 6 months, a gruelling 6 months. And the rest? Not boyfriends, but not friends either. You know what I mean. And each of them hardly lasted a month.
Today I hurt a guy I really love. He’s like my best friend. But I flirted with him, until he liked me in return. Once he liked me, it’s like my mission’s accomplished. I no longer feel a thing.
Evil? Call me that. It hurt me deeply, too. I’ve been stabbed with a knife. The stabber is me.
Every time it started out so sweetly. I had this feeling I was so into him. The world blossomed. Even the ugliest duckling by the lake looked perfectly lovely. I would talk, flirt, chat, and made his world blossomed as mine was. It almost always worked. Then when it worked, I lost interest. Suddenly, the world didn’t blossom anymore. I don’t know why. The world became instantly normal, with a tint of boredom, without a hint of the blossoms it was a second ago.
The biggest showdown came when he knew that I had changed. I could never pretend or hide my feelings for long. I’m not the type. And he was hurt. Must have come as a big surprise. I was surprise, too, at myself.
Then a knife came through to my heart. The instant he’s hurt, I’m hurt, too. Afterall, I’m the cause of it all. All my fault. My unpredictable me and only me.
I don’t know how I can change myself to become a better person.