So Insane

Published 8 January, 2011 by itsaheartache

It doesn’t come as much of a surprise to me that I don’t really know how to “like” someone.  My track record of being screwed over by most of the people in my life, even some of my best friends, makes me extremely gun shy.

Having said that, I feel like I go a little crazy when I do find myself interested in someone.  I don’t feel like I think rationally; I go out of my way to try to talk myself down.  Now, me being of the flint-hearted nature, it’s a little disturbing to lose control and to feel that “Ut oh, I think I might like this boy” feeling.  That momentary lapse of reason, so to speak. 

What the hell am I mumbling about?  OK I’ll spill it.

There is a boy, who is a friend of friends (the unhappy people I mentioned before).  He is handsome, funny, stable, responsible, and single.  I spend enough time at the unhappy’s house and he makes a regular appearance; so we have entered the beginning stages of talking.  Stop the presses OMG you can’t be serious, right?  For me, this is a big deal.  I fly the flag of “all men suck and one more bad date and I’m cutting my hair and joining a softball team”… So for me to even have an interest in someone is a miracle in itself.  Another bigger miracle is that I haven’t convinced myself that he’s a serial cheater or one of those boys who won’t call back. 

I’ll cut away here and add that in order to protect the flint heart, I often talk myself out of a situation before it even begins.  I will disparage someone and render them below my standards before I can even make that decision intelligently.  I do this because I have been hurt.  I have been hurt badly, not only by ex boyfriends, but by some family and some friends.  Friends I thought would be there did just the opposite.  Given that it is water under the bridge, it still fucking hurts.  And it makes me nervous and skittish to trust someone.  I feel like I just can’t trust.  I don’t want to relinquish that control.  I can’t.  It’s me against the world. 

That mantra gets so fucking old.  In all actuality, I am lonely.  The “I can do it alone” flag is flying strong, but tattered.  I know I can do it alone, because I do it every damn day.  I’ve had people tell me that I have inspired them; that they use me as motivation to get through tough times.  While that is incredibly flattering and I am humbled by their words, I wonder Why?  If you could look in the window, you would see I really do not have my shit as together as one would think.  I feel like some days I could go crazy.  OK, more often than not. 

So imagine all of this compounded by actual emotion.  Oye. 

Now, back to the boy.  I’m not sure what to do.  I have expressed interest, and have put the ball in his court.  The pessimist in me tells me not to get my hopes up.  The optimist is encouraged and hopeful.  My track record tells me he’s not going to call and I should just get used to having that big bed to myself for a while longer.  Ugh.

While the room spins and the roller coaster comes to complete stop, I sit and wait to see what happens next.  I think I need a straight jacket.

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