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My Biggest Fear Is Coming Off As A Clingy Bitch

My Biggest Fear Is Coming Off As A Clingy Bitch

Okay. Just play it cool. There’s nothing wrong with that fucking blood-sucking skank with fugly heels on talking to MY guy. I know he liked the workout picture of her wearing a sports bra and pants that show off her muscular ass from last week. So what, right? She’s a but-her-face and probably has a lame personality. If I interrupt the conversation, will I look like some psycho girlfriend keeping tabs on him? But if I don’t interfere she might think he’s fair game. I mean, obviously she’s a home wrecker. What the hell do I do?

You wouldn’t believe the number of times I have had this maddening conversation with myself. I trust my boyfriend. I just don’t want any other girl thinking it’s okay to flirt with him. Does this make me a “crazy girlfriend”? I’ve come to the conclusion that caring about your significant other does not make you psycho. However, it’s how you control your feelings that will make all the difference.

For as far back as I can remember, in a relationship or not, the thought of being labeled “that clingy chick” has always made me cringe. It’s petrifying when you’re just in the talking phase with someone because if you come off as too attached to the dude, he will likely ghost you. That sucks ass. And if you start acting too possessive of your boyfriend, you’ll suddenly find yourself single because he’s going to dump you. That sucks even more ass.

And if I start obsessing over being afraid to lose him, I become apprehensive that I will turn into some hyperemotional, needy, sensitive, tacky monster to the rest of the world. Chances are I won’t ACTUALLY be that crazed, but in my mind just sharing my deep down emotions might make me seem like some wacko creature. If I touch base with the guy about my honest feelings of him liking Little Miss Wannabe Instagram Fitness Model’s pictures, he’s going to hustle out the door and never speak to me again. I know that’s being dramatic and I’m definitely overthinking it. But seriously, who hasn’t worried about this before?

SNAPCHAT ME BACK OR WE ARE OVER.

Yes. I do become preoccupied with keeping track of the amount of Snapchats he has opened, but not responded to. And yes. I do still get anxious sending a certain amount of texts. I’m fine with double texting. However, if I am sending homeboy important shit and it’s been like four messages without a response all day, I’ll come to the conclusion he’s over me and wants to move on to that disgusting bitch who was eye-raping him last Friday.

When we are together, especially in public, I will try to keep my “cool girlfriend” persona intact.

Nothing is wrong. Nope. You not telling me that sluts were going on your “boys’ weekend” trip is totally fine. I get it. You didn’t know. But at least keep me updated when your friends put you in a situation where chicks I don’t personally know are around.

I try to be chill when his friends are around because as the saying goes, “bros before hoes.” So if a few of his boys don’t like me, he will start to feel on edge. No matter how much it pisses me off when his buddies get him in sticky situations, I won’t let anyone know it bothers me unless it’s really extreme. There’s no way in hell I’m about to throw a hissy fit in front of his boys. That’s Kim Kardashian level of drama, and I’m just not that type of person.

I’m not going to spiral into some nervous breakdown just because he is talking to some whore with ginormous tits. Will I be prepared to punch her in those boobs if she gets too close to him? Yes I will be. Am I going to let him know that I do occasionally sneak around and creep on him when we separate at a party? Hell no. Am I only holding his hand to parade around other girls so they understand he is off limits and not going anywhere? Yup. Some might suggest that I am “bottling up my emotions.” I beg to differ. I share what needs to be said. But I am also just meticulous about how I act on the insane nonsense that is going through my mind so I don’t end up forever alone. Clinginess isn’t a cute trait on anyone. So I sure as fuck am going to avoid that shit like the plague.

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Kellie Stritz

Kellie, spelled with an "ie," practically resides at Starbucks even though they have yet to spell her name correctly. She's obsessed with the color pink, Elle Woods, and Bitmoji's. Her biggest accomplishment is breaking the record within her sorority for how many standards hearings she has had without getting kicked out. She spends her free time trying to stay tan (i.e. sunburnt) and stalking people on social media.

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