||[Jan. 16th, 2009|12:09 am]
is that you?
I've been gone for a while.|
In that time I met a boy, disengaged from this boy, and now avoid this boy. I've grown, I think. I've become more comfortable with myself, maybe. But I'm still scared of actually defining myself. And maybe that's okay. I think I'm more independent. And I'm more sure of where I'm going. Destination = somewhere happy, with love on my tongue (and in my heart and my hands), not that much money in my bank account, and animals in my house. And I've lost a pet, who was more of a friend and a confidante.
I've lost my mind a few times, too.
I don't know if I'm doing anything right. I'm ready to be passionate about someone, but what if I'm not capable of it? I know I'm supposed to be more open, smile more at them, actually make eye-contact, actually put myself out there.
mama: "Be more open."
How do I do that?
And why is it so easy for everyone else? I think my shoes are soggy from my woe-is-me deep, deep puddle. Blah!
And it's not just me who thinks there's something wrong with this. My aunt's mom asked me at my cousin's birthday party in front of my little giggly cousins if I'm dating anyone. Bloody hell. I'm barely comfortable enough talking about it with myself.
jo: Do you go on any dates though?
me: Um well I don't really have much time. I'm kind of concentrating on school and blahblahbullshityadayadaawkwardbullshit.
jo: But just some dates sometimes? Any dates?
me: I'm really busy . . .
jo: Not ever?
me: Um . . .
jo: Don't you ever go out to the movies with boys? Ever?
My cousins were then cracking up and shushing her as my face made the entire room radiate from the Allysun.
I'm trying to figure out if I'm okay. I'm not sure. When I tell myself I am okay, I wonder if maybe it's God who's telling me that.
Thank you, God.