Truly, truly, truly….disappointed…

Disappointed-love-1821-xx-Francis-Danby Every time I think I am getting closer to you, every time I think that I know you, and that I am safe with you, something, someone, some edit from your life pops it’s head up and goes wait… back up the truck, why would they say that about him? What does that mean?  Why does this person who I thought was a practical stranger to you, seem to know some face of you that I don’t?

Then it’s the stages: Why am I caring? What does it matter? Am I allowed to ask? Why the hell am I asking anyway, there are no property lines drawn for me, I have no deed. Am I sounding like a weird creeper? Should I just try and forget what this is making run through my head? Or is it okay to ask what this is all about, I mean we are friends first. I would ask my friend about all of it.

See this is what this whole thing is doing to me, making me question myself, question my motives, question his motives.  Its all mucking up my brain and making me unsure of me. I am sick of being unsure of me. I’m frustrated and confused at the lack of courage I have when it comes to him. Hiding out here on a blog. Ugh, I hate this wimpy side of me.