The Chaos Cycle of Rejection

When I like a boy, I have to watch myself very carefully, for I am known for lapsing into what I like the call, the chaos cycle of rejection.  This cycle also is more likely to occur when there is a copious amount of sugar or caffeine pumping through my system.

The cycle begins with my obsessing over the state of me and boy I like's relationship, if they do not like me within two days of when I first confirm my attraction for them.  I then begin to brainstorm what I can possibly do about the fact that they are not stalking me in return.

I have come up with four options that basically apply to every relationship.

OPTION 1

Tell him exactly how I feel.  Being honest is always a plus, but there is always a LARGE chance of rejection, and I would most likely run away crying after professing my feelings, for the only thing harder for me than rejection is confession.

OPTION 2

Keep my cool.  Still be his friend.  Alas, this is more of a transitional and temporary step, for at some point, my bottled up feelings will explode, and he will inevitably be drenched in unwanted love.


OPTION 3

Be fucking amazing, and play hard to get until he shits bricks every time I walk in a room. 

OPTION 4

Be super flirty, but also be his friend.  There are sparkles everywhere and wind always blowing in my hair. Wink a lot.


I always start off in a nice mixture of option 2 and 4.  This is pretty easy for a while, but then the chaos kicks in.  I begin to worry that he has figured me out.

How long has he known? Is he going to confront me? WHAT DO I DO?!!?

After this, every conversation becomes an epic battle of keeping my shit together.  Even simple things like saying hello in the hallway become a stressed action because somehow the way I say the word "hello" could give me away.

I avoid all contact, until that fateful day arrives when he needs me to answer a simple homework problem.

I am cornered and before the question is out..

I lose whatever final grasp I had of my sanity,

and panic ensues.

and without my my consent, my mouth opens and thrusts forth option one against my will.
word.vomit.

and I am left alone, crumpled on the floor in a pile of despair and failure.  and most likely don't know what the math homework was either.