The Silent B*tch: Confessions Of The Other Kind of 'Crazy B*tch'

We all know about the “crazy bitch." She falls too hard too fast. She goes batsh*t when she sees you with another girl. She calls you 72 times at three in the morning because she just misses you so much.

I have done a lot of writing about this girl, because I’m fascinated by her. I’m fascinated by the fierce boldness with which she lives her life, because I'm the polar opposite. I lead a life marked by total cowardice.

I don’t fall "too hard too fast" because I never let myself fall at all. I don’t go batsh*t when I see you with another girl, because I’m too busy finding myself another guy to use to get even. I won’t call you 72 times at three in the morning because I will never call you at all.

I once had a boy I was seeing tell me that his time with me was simultaneously the best and worst four months of his life. When I asked why, he told me that it was because I’m “the most vague person alive.”

Despite all of our good times together, he could never be completely sure about what I was thinking or feeling, and that left him totally insecure.

The crazy part is that I liked him. I liked him a lot. But he’s right; I’m PAINFULLY vague when it comes to what I’m thinking and feeling in the realm of dating.

I’ve recently realized this does not make me sane. This just makes me another kind of crazy bitch -- the silent bitch.

The ironic part of my kind of crazy is that I think a lot of it stems from my fear of being labeled the “crazy girl." I don’t want to be that “stalker” following you around at the party, just like I don’t want to be that “needy” girl begging you to hang out every day.

So, while that girl’s craziness is driven by a loud and clear vocalization of what she is thinking and feeling at all times, mine is driven more by a silent and "vague" refusal to show any sort of emotion.

Instead of blurting out my feelings too soon, I’ll never blurt them at all.

No, I will never be that girl who blurted out “I love you” too soon. But I also won’t be the one who says "I love you" when I actually do love you.

In fact, there’s a high chance that I'll never say those three words at all.

I have found that my main goal when I actually do have feelings for people is to convince them that I absolutely don’t have any feelings for them at all.

Because that makes total sense, right?

Instead of stalking your social media incessantly, I’ll ignore your friend request.

Keeping you away from my news feed is just another cautionary step taken against falling too hard. I will not be stalking your profile all the way back to 2007, because I will not be stalking your profile at all.

What if I saw a picture of you with another girl, and it made me, like, I don’t know... feel something?! NO, THANK YOU. Count me out.

I’m so overly cautious about letting you into my world at all that I will not even allow you into my social media world. I just see it as the one realm over which I really do hold some control.

So of course I’m going to ignore your friend request.

Instead of calling you out, I’ll expect you to figure it out.

The root of my particular brand of crazy is my totally and completely crippling fear of confrontation.

I avoid confrontation as a rule. I would rather the world end tomorrow than have an honest, matter-of-fact conversation with you about how I feel.

This is why I will NEVER call you out on your sh*t. While the other kind of crazy bitch would show up to your front door screaming if she ever heard about you seeing someone else, I would simply ghost you and expect you to eventually figure out why.

Instead of crowding you, I’ll pull away.

If we’re at the same party, I won’t give you any attention at all. In fact, I will make it a point to talk to everybody except you.

If I’m bored one day and all I really want to do is snuggle with you and watch movies all day, I will settle for watching Netflix by myself and patiently wait for you to text me.

Which brings me to my next point.

Instead of blowing up your phone, I’ll refuse to text first.

I’ll just go ahead and say it: I CARE about text ratios. I’m honestly pretty anal about them. One could even say I’m crazy about them.

I’m so crazy about them that if my house was on fire, and I wanted to text you how I really felt before the flames swallowed me whole (probably the only circumstance I actually might feel comfortable honestly telling you how I feel), and I saw that I had already had the last word in our most recent conversation (thus making this a double text), I would go ahead and die without ever having said how I felt.

Instead of falling hard, I’ll never fall at all.

The other kind of crazy bitch is bold and fearless when it comes to love. No matter how many times she has her heart broken, she is ready to fall hard and fast for the next potential Prince Charming.

Unlike her, I have never had my heart broken -- mostly because I am so afraid of having it broken that I will never give anyone the chance.

While her craziness is marked by extreme boldness, mine comes from deep cowardice.

Instead of getting jealous, I’ll get even.

Jealousy is natural; I would be lying if I said that I literally never got jealous. It's just how I choose to deal with my jealousy that separates me from most other people.

If I see you with another girl, I won’t call you out. I won’t burst into tears at the bar. I won’t send you a long string of angry texts for the rest of the night and the following morning.

I’ll just hook up with someone else and move on.

Instead of letting you break my heart into a million pieces, I’ll never give you my heart to break.

The crazy bitch we all know is DEVASTATED after a breakup. There are tears everywhere, angry tweets and probably a few screaming matches with her now-ex.

A breakup with me would be the complete opposite. No tears. No tweets. No yelling. I will suffer in total and complete silence.

You might think this would be the bright side of never letting yourself fall in too deep because it won’t hurt as badly in the end.

But the fact of the matter is that it hurts just as bad. The pain is just different. It's marked by regret.

I think to myself, maybe, if I did put myself out there more or were more honest about how I was feeling, this wouldn’t be happening right now.