she's a bit of a coward. that's why I have trouble with her eyes.
It's sad to think just how much of my life can be summed up by the following statement: "I don't quite know what I was afraid of."
I'm currently attempting to fix the part of myself that goes into ostrich-mode the minute something becomes too intense for me to handle. It's going a bit slower than I would like, but I think I'm making progress. I'm pretty happy right now, but the urge to self-destruct, as usual, is rising. So far, however, I think I have it tamed, and I intend to keep doing so. I'm so sick of regretting things due to cowardice and inaction.
But please, don't let me fuck this up. Almost everything I touch has the tendency to become lost or broken, and I can't let that include this...
I'm currently attempting to fix the part of myself that goes into ostrich-mode the minute something becomes too intense for me to handle. It's going a bit slower than I would like, but I think I'm making progress. I'm pretty happy right now, but the urge to self-destruct, as usual, is rising. So far, however, I think I have it tamed, and I intend to keep doing so. I'm so sick of regretting things due to cowardice and inaction.
But please, don't let me fuck this up. Almost everything I touch has the tendency to become lost or broken, and I can't let that include this...