My name is Alyssia, aged semi-well at almost twenty-six years old. My hair is always changing colors because I can never quite make a decision about anything. I think it used to be brown, but I am not hundred percent sure about that. I have blue eyes that turn stormy gray when I daydream. I daydream a lot. I don’t know how much I weigh but I am frightened to look; let’s just assume I am not your preferred amount of woman. Average height, average intelligence quotient. I won’t be able to solve hefty mathematical equations but I can sure as hell talk about books for hours. I have very few skills. I pretend to play the guitar like some kind of hip bohemian but I am tone deaf and clumsy. I can scramble eggs and flip pancakes but I always burn the bacon. However, I can write poetry with just a handful of words and remember the lyrics to all of your favorite songs. I can dress myself in the morning and make the perfect cup of chai tea. I will hug you at all the right times but give you space when you need it. But you will probably need a lot of space from me because: I am crazy. I am a person that is filled to the brim with passion and I don’t know where to put it all. I turn up the music in my car way too loud; and when you ask me questions later I won’t be able to hear you because I have voluntarily deafened myself. I get into manic states that make me want to talk about all the little edges of the universe when you just want to go to sleep. And when I feel rejected, I will curl up inside of myself and pretend that I am holding onto every word you say when I am really just watching the movements of your eyes and wondering where they are looking and what you are thinking and oh god this is it this is it you are going to abandon me aren’t you. Until you lean over and kiss me and I remember that I matter.
Yes, I have issues. But I will want to focus on yours. I have a hero complex and I want to save the world. I am addicted to addicts, so to all the alcoholics, nymphomaniacs, cokeheads and co-dependents, please contact me because I would love to destroy myself through you. I am kind of an emotional masochist. I like to see how much pain I can take; I like to push the envelope as far as I possibly can before it rips to shreds and I have to pull away. Chances are that things will go one of two ways with me: I will push you away, or you will run away. I am intense. I love too much, and that has become more of a weakness than a strength. I will want to text you a thousand times a day about my philosophical musings and you will surely get overwhelmed. I acknowledge that I get too attached for my own good, but for the life of me I cannot change. I am a Pisces with a Scorpio moon, and I am convinced that has something to do with it. I find meanings in everything, and I believe that everything happens for a reason. I want to talk about life and death and hopefully love will happen somewhere in between. And by hopefully, I mean I want love desperately, but I am trying to act casual about it. When you don’t touch me, I will notice. My sex drive is higher than average, and I don’t expect you to keep up. That was a lie. I do expect you to keep up, and if you don’t I will be sorely disappointed and think that I am not attractive enough for you. You will try to console me, but I won’t believe you. You will spend seventy-five percent of your time trying to reassure me that I am beautiful and worthy of love. You will fail, but I will want you to keep trying.
Meanwhile, I will do anything to make you happy. I will stroke your hair at night when we watch television because I know you like it. I will aim to surprise you constantly, so that you never know what’s going to happen next. I’d like to think I am mysterious. I am an open book, but you will have to pry me open; one page at a time. If I reveal myself too soon, all the excitement might fade away. I will hold onto you like I would a life raft; when you are with me I will know nothing but your existence. I will spend my days wondering if you could ever, possibly, feel the same. Not many people understand me, but I have accepted that I am different. I will encourage you to be different, and try new things. I would rather choose the exotic than the conventional. I love spontaneity. Why yes, I would love to meet you at 3am on a school night to watch the Perseids falling through the sky. I am somewhat reasonable, though, despite everything else I may have mentioned. Actually, I am a contradiction of myself…but aren’t we all? I would make a fantastic plus one at your sister’s wedding and I swear your parents will love me and be swayed by my ladylike charms. Though sometimes they may cringe at the strange thoughts that spill out of my mouth, I am exceptionally kind. Quirky, if you will, but that doesn’t necessarily have to be a negative quality. I am an introverted extrovert, and I think as I speak. It doesn’t have to make sense, but it makes sense to me.
I just want someone to share my world with. I want to hold hands on the beach because sometimes I am cliché. I want to drink absinthe and paint your body because sometimes I am a creator starving for you to be my art. I am not for everybody, but my heart is wide and ready. I promise to never consciously try to hurt you with my words even though they are my only weapon. I promise to leave you alone when you are having a bad day and to make you cute cards on holidays. I will write about you all the time but I might be shy about sharing. Please ask me to share. I have a lot of depth and it would be nice to find someone who is curious. I am a lot to handle, but it could be worth it.