i'll never be one to understand emotions, good or bad. they all seem to wear on you, and take pieces slowly away while they build you up or tear you down.

and i'm not a happy person by default. i could blame it on depression, but who's not depressed nowadays. seems like the doctors've got everyone on some sort of pill to make them happy or calm. i could blame it on anxiety and that shit, but let's face it, if i really needed to blame anything on that, i could only blame it on myself. i know chemicals can fuck your thoughts trains, but ultimately you choose how you're affected.

so now i'm here, just analyzing what a normal person would just take in stride and be happy to have to opportunity to feel something like this.

and i'm here feeling scared, like a paranoid person, and feeling so destructive inwards and out that i feel like i'm a stupid teenager again.

but i'm not screwing anything up, i see this happening, but i'm not trapped watching a bad movie that just gets worse. i'm behind the scenes and i know i can make it better. i know i can flesh this script out. i know what shots need to go where, and it's all on adlib. improv. that doesn't make any sense to anyone else but me, i guess. i'm just saying that nothing's rehearsed. it hasn't been, and i'm usually pretty good at following motions, but i'm not now. i just know how to stop the retarded part of my brain that doesn't believe in happiness, and doesn't believe anything lasts.

how can i put it bluntly... i know who i am, and what i do when things seem too good to be true. i get paranoid and build up these terrible scenarios in my mind that take me into another person that's more bitter and less trusting, for no reason but to save myself. i've got a weak and sick heart, everyone stays at arms length. no exceptions. not even my parents and friends have gotten close enough to really dig deep into me. this wall was build and barricade long ago, and for good reasons. so what would be the point in securing this fortress if i've go all willy-nilly and cave in on looking out for #1.

but now that there's a hole in my armor. now that my arms are next to me, and she's standing right there, i don't know how in the hell to handle this. i know where i am. i've dreamed about being here, despite my misleading words, and i'm not really afraid of screwing this up like i've done before. i'd feel something going down this road. over analyze. read off the results, and clam and pucker like an asshole. destroy it so sauvely and smile at the shattered pieces like my proudest piece of art.

however, i wasn't paying attention, and now i'm here. i've got the old knee jerk to tear it down, but i can't. which is a good thing. i've got no means to sabotage my emotions, or self destruct them. i'm finally in a good place with my idle hands at my side staring into deep green oceans. i'm happy. i'm warm. i'm excited. i'm where i've always wanted to be.

and yet...

there's this fear coming up behind my face. taunting me like a school yard bully. egging on my paranoia. telling me i'm going to fail. my heart will be torn from my chest and dashed against splintery shards of poison and malice, and all that other over dramatic bullshit to illustrate how devastated i'm gonna be when she decides i'm not all that. i'm not anything special. i'm not the one. (not that the last part is anything anyone's ever even sure of to begin with, let alone in the apex of a successful relationship). so anything i'm feeling, i lock inside some desolate cell deep down inside of me.

i thought i figured out a long time ago that letting things out was way healthier, and way less stressful. i also thought i could convince myself that certain feelings don't exist. hell, while i'm at it, i also thought now one could get to me, or plain get me. the jokes. the awkward acts. the laid back carelessness, and whatevs. it was good enough to defend against every single other person. but its some other sort of paralyzed i get when i'm looking into those pupils. like this something reaches into me and touches something inside, like a switch, that does more things i've never known words for. and it causes me to choke on my words, so i say only what i know i can say, but they don't scratch the surface of what's really there. i want to explode and let her roll around my insides like a soothsayer to see some divine message that the old gods wrote inside of me, for her eyes only. i want to let go, accept the consequences of what this is, if i ever have to, and live. finally live like i've wanted to live. like the movies. i know the movies are fantasy and lies, but it feels tangible. i feels so real that it hurts to hold back.

and here i am, blogging about it. pretending it's nothing big, face to face. but screaming in my head about the little details.

i know what it is. i couldn't tell you why, but that means so much more to me than a laundry list. that's how i know it's real. that's how i know i'm not just faking it to lie to myself. that's how i know she's different. that's just how i know.

and i'm still too chickenshit to do anything about it.

you seriously have no idea how close it all comes to spilling out of me every second. how much i can't to hold on to keep my rationality, keep my head on straight. i want to scream it out so everyone knows, but it's always just stuck in my chest. i'm wondering if i'll ever get the balls to let it out...i'll prolly just be drunk when it happens.