I was thinking that I need to update this blog more, because I can't just spend all my blogging mojo on my newish endeavor of "Ok Cupid Letters That Never Got Responses" when there's so much more to say (or so I would like to think: but let's face it; having been unemployed for almost a year, my life hasn't been all that exciting, save for the people I've met and hung out with at shows, but I've spent way too much time alone and in my own head, and I won't lie, dear readers, 'tis a scary place to reside full-time).
Nevertheless, I was gonna troll around my notebooks for something I never typed out, but as luck would have it, I found this instead. I wrote it in July of last year when I was dealing with some heavy changes, none of them very good. Luckily, nobody died, but there has been some fallout. Life is messy, but chances must be taken. However, some truths are hard to tell someone to their face.
7/11/09
Bugbites lined up like track marks on my arms and stomach as I grapple with my sanity and a weird heat rash on my abdomen. Are they bedbugs? Mosquitoes? Spiders? Other? I am up past dawn, freaking out frequently. I am anxious about the possibility of infestation and the impossibility of us. I love her, but I am not in love with her. She is everything, almost, that I am looking for, including that look that I always said I wanted someone to look at me like. But when I look back at her looking at me like that, it's hollow, empty. I'm a shell staring into the abyss - I don't feel as much as I want to, as much as I should. I should want to be with her every minute she is not here, instead of wishing on a disappearing beer.
Here I sit, i am debating testing the "nothing good happens after 2am" postulate. But instead, I am trying to sort out my thoughts so I know what to tell her that won't destroy her. I don't like confrontation and pain. When you get involved with someone you're friends with, there is the debate "oh but what if it doesn't work out?" versus "Well, what if it does?" - and I'm always saying "well, I'd rather take the chance than regret it the rest of my life." So naturally, I try it and it bites me in the ass.
She told me that she didn't think she was my type and so when I said I liked her, she got too excited. I have a high opinion of myself and like to think that I am not beholden by looks or body type. I was trying to cast against type, as it were, but once again, it just makes me uncomfortable and repulsed. I liked her so much that I wanted her to be my type, but you can't control who you are attracted to.
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