2amfix.net

After a great deal of restless discomfort, and an inability to ignore the blaring apprehension permeating my body, I decided to blog for the genuine need to process and unload my current predicament, as well as indulge in some common courtesy for those who wish to verify my continued well-being.

So first things first –present, alive, and well.

Well … as well as one can be at 1:34 AM — burning eyes, heavy heart, slightly shot brain and all. The last of which quite perfectly accounts for my current lack of literary finesse. However, at this point, I’m beginning to think my literary eloquence (or lack thereof) is somewhat irrelevant in light of my cesspool of thoroughly more cumbersome issues.

Analyzing my past relationships, flings, “friendships” — whatever you’d like to call them — I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been consistent in two things, and two things alone: my to inability to ever truly commit and the need of constant reassurance via an escape button. Slightly messed up, I agree, yet true.

In light of my childhood memories, and observations of my parents progressively disasterous marital relationship, I’d come to the conclusion that I would always maintain my escape route and never give more, or even as much as I got. Always just a little less so as to minimize the damage of a future case of serious ownage and ensure a tipped balance of pain. The least of which would be mine.

Yet here I am. Way in over my head, possibly fucked through every inch and pore of my body, and more than willing to commit to a relationship.

Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing — just slightly alarming due to my negative regard of the male species. Of course I’d never group him into the plethora of douchebags I’ve come to refer to as male scum, but who really does when they’re in love, whipped, and liking it? But once again, that turned out sounding wrong. I don’t even think he has the ability to truly transform into anything that shitacular as I truly do have faith in him as a person, and because I truly do believe that he would never intentionally fuck me over. But there’s always that big “What IF” and the huge unknown of whether the emotions invested balance out. More so the latter than anything else — he’s to good a guy to degrade with flippant What IF’s anyway.

But then that sort of thought process is what has me scared shitless to begin with. Quite honestly, I’ll but truthful and say that I’m as whipped for him as is humanly possible. Sure, he has his faults, but his positives far outweigh the negative, and even then, the negatives are barely apparent. And so, seeing as that I’m an inherently pessimistic and critical person, we’ve come to the source of my discomfort and hence the underlying issue: It’s become obvious that he’s got a great deal of me, and the fall (if experienced) would therefore be quite steep.

Edit: So pretty much, what I’ve concluded after re-reading this huge bitch of a post, is that I’m an insecure, retarded human whose seriously whipped. Kudos to myself. -_-!!!!

And as an afterthought, I hope he doesn’t decide to revisit this page till we’ve updated this into the archives as I’d rather not delete this update in light of all the effort exerted. Otherwise, I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do.