(no subject)
I feel sad, confused, stupid, scared, regretful, and I feel awkward venturing into the realm of my emotions, sorting out what, precisely, do I feel. What's almost comically tragic is that, if I play my cards right anyway, I should be in the position of guiding someone through his realm of emotions. His untouched by man, unheard of in the western world, desperately unexplored wilderness of emotions. If I'm a poorly inhabited fishing town, then he's a marshy tundra that is home to arctic animals during only part of the year. I'm scared that I pushed him too far, that my second chance is just a sham, and that my mistakes are, despite appearances, irredeemable. I'm scared that I have no room to falter again. And I'm scared that he doesn't love me anymore. Ah. But no. I can't go there. That's the one insecurity, the absolute one feeling, that I must tuck away into the deepest nooks of my drawer. Or else. So I'm scared.