A Bad Situation

You are bad for me.

The words kept echoing in my head for days.
I couldn't believe they had really been spoken.
And by someone I really cared for.
Surely, there had been a mistake.
He must have thought he was talking to a different person.
Another Resa.
Someone who didn't care about anyone but herself.

It's frightening how people can really perceive you.

I not only thought this person liked me, I thought they got me.
You know, one of those people who knows what you're thinking before you say it, who guesses you're still in bed and craving kisses rather than being productive on your day off.
That kind of understanding.

But instead my desire for friendship had created a bad situation.
I was becoming a bad situation in every area of my life.

And here I thought we were supposed to just be ourselves.
Apparently not when yourself is so extreme.
Because I'm too much and need to be toned down.
Take it down a notch, the only acting note I got from my first film class.

I'm too much.
Too much for men.
Too much for my coworkers.
Too too much.

But I don't know how to flip the off switch.
How does one refrain from being who they are?
And which version of myself should I be?
Which parts of me are tolerable enough to remain?
My loud laugh?
My propensity to tell stories?
My insatiable appetite?
My desire to communicate love?

Somebody please tell me so I can adjust accordingly.

Contrary to popular belief I do actually aim to please.
How very foolish of me.

And then maybe when I become fully the little stepford robot they've created me to be they'll stop trying to drive me away because I'm too extreme and let me stay put for awhile.

Or maybe they'd be bored with me and forget I even exist.

I don't know which is worse.
I think I'd rather be hated than forgotten.
At least I'd make an impression.
At least I could have that.