Sometimes I Really Need Sarahphim & Linza....
...And this is totally one of those times.
Although, I've been friends with both of you long enough to be able to know instinctively what kind of advice you'd be giving me... it's the advice I should be giving myself, but I can't because I am far too close to the situation in question.
But here's me whining at you two (and anyone else masochistic enough to read my rambling). It's purposely vague for reasons I need to be purposely vague about. If you're too confused, message me, I'll fill in the blanks.
On with the show.
I really wish that I could say that the only reason I'm experiencing the feelings that I am right now is simply because I can. Because I'm 21 and single and he's cute and wonderful and brilliant and romantic... and god, I'm totally justified in having those feelings, right? Right. I want so badly (more than I could ever hope to express in mere words) to be like "the only reason I'm attracted to him is because he's an attractive kind of guy with attractive-guy qualities." I would love for this to be shallow, so I could just fuck him and get on with my life.
But no.
Somewhere in the back of my mind is this tiny little area that's mocking me, and saying "the reason you're thinking these things is because YOU'RE FREAKING IN LOVE WITH HIM, STUPID." 'Cause I probably am. Wait. No. Strike that. I totally, completely am in a way that scares the good and holy hell out of me. 'Cause I don't do love... at least not well. I'm dysfunctional, I'm emotionally retarded, and I overthink. I have no right to feel the way I do, especially after everything that's happened.
And yet.
Of course I want to wake up tomorrow morning and find a letter from him tucked under the windshield wipers of my car that says "I'm every bit as terrified as you, but I'm more terrified of not trying." (Alright, I know that's kinda far-fetched, especially because I'm not sure he even knows where my house is.) But you know what I mean. I need some sign of vulnerability from his camp that lets me know that it's okay to be so mixed-up about this, and to feel guilty for wanting something so much that, deep down, I know I totally and completely do not deserve.
Am I just losing it? Seriously. Because I trust you ladies to tell me if I've completely gone of the deep end this time.
Although, I've been friends with both of you long enough to be able to know instinctively what kind of advice you'd be giving me... it's the advice I should be giving myself, but I can't because I am far too close to the situation in question.
But here's me whining at you two (and anyone else masochistic enough to read my rambling). It's purposely vague for reasons I need to be purposely vague about. If you're too confused, message me, I'll fill in the blanks.
On with the show.
I really wish that I could say that the only reason I'm experiencing the feelings that I am right now is simply because I can. Because I'm 21 and single and he's cute and wonderful and brilliant and romantic... and god, I'm totally justified in having those feelings, right? Right. I want so badly (more than I could ever hope to express in mere words) to be like "the only reason I'm attracted to him is because he's an attractive kind of guy with attractive-guy qualities." I would love for this to be shallow, so I could just fuck him and get on with my life.
But no.
Somewhere in the back of my mind is this tiny little area that's mocking me, and saying "the reason you're thinking these things is because YOU'RE FREAKING IN LOVE WITH HIM, STUPID." 'Cause I probably am. Wait. No. Strike that. I totally, completely am in a way that scares the good and holy hell out of me. 'Cause I don't do love... at least not well. I'm dysfunctional, I'm emotionally retarded, and I overthink. I have no right to feel the way I do, especially after everything that's happened.
And yet.
Of course I want to wake up tomorrow morning and find a letter from him tucked under the windshield wipers of my car that says "I'm every bit as terrified as you, but I'm more terrified of not trying." (Alright, I know that's kinda far-fetched, especially because I'm not sure he even knows where my house is.) But you know what I mean. I need some sign of vulnerability from his camp that lets me know that it's okay to be so mixed-up about this, and to feel guilty for wanting something so much that, deep down, I know I totally and completely do not deserve.
Am I just losing it? Seriously. Because I trust you ladies to tell me if I've completely gone of the deep end this time.