I’m not myself. Perhaps I was, for a moment there. I mean, I am and I’m not. I don’t feel trapped or locked, but there’s something I’m not saying. When I put everything out in the open, I kind of decided that that was enough for me. And then it all came back and I thought: “Oh, what the hell”. So, on I go. Only, now I’m hiding a bit. And how do you say, “I’m terrified (of what could be absolutely nothing but it’s huge in my head),” without sounding like a screaming child or an intensely insane adult? The funny thing is: I know it could be so easy. If I could just get life out of my head for a minute; if I could just trust, but I can’t – I have no reason. And it would be naive of me and of my life and lessons and drip::drip, yadda::yadda , for me to just go “I’ll just plunge then, without fear of consequences.” (I realize I'm contradicting myself; I'm a work in progress.) Also funny, if it’s all that easy, I’m very likely to be uninterested. How fucked up is that?
It’s okay though. A decade in and my heart still beats with the ferocity of a teenager in lust. I'll wait for now.