Not so.

I'm sure Fleet is utterly confused at how strongly I feel concerning him. He thinks I'm all those things that make a great girl, but that doesn't necessarily mean he has feelings for me. He likes me, sure. He is physically attracted to me, sure. But I somehow attribute his affections to feelings he has for me.

Perhaps, however, he has no feelings at all. And I'm just making this all up.

It's highly possible. I have no concept of reality anymore.

I have to take responsibility for how fucked up I really am. Trent, Jackrabbit, really did a number on me, and I let him, and now I'm so totally and completely unable to be normal about relationships.

He's ruined me for life, no matter how much therapy I go through. I've talked and talked and talked about this and it's been nearly three years since I met him and I am still not better. No amount of talking about this seems to make any difference. I still do the same shit I've done.

Oh don't get me wrong. I do not miss him, nor do I want him anymore. I don't want him in my life in any way shape or form. But the remnants of the damage done decorate my walls like really bad art. They just hang there like eyesores, polluting the ambience of the room, making people squeeze their eyes shut, shudder in disgust and leave.

So I continue to curate this museum of bad memories and fears that chip away at me, undermining all my attempts to have a healthy relationship with someone, friendship, whatever kind of relationship you want to define.

And because of this fuckedupness, I can't just be ok with things. I take situations that quite probably have nothing to do with me as a person but entirely to do with the other person and his situation, and make them about me.

I hate to feel helpless, and there's nothing I can do about Fleet and his difficulties. His not being interested in getting involved with me has nothing to do with me. His needs are entirely related to recent events in HIS life, not mine.

See what I mean? I know this to be true. I can write it down. I can say it over and over again to a million people. But it doesn't sink in. I can't internalize it. There's some kind of weird blockage between my head and my heart. It's my throat where my stomach seems to reside permanently.

I'm selfish, petulent, sulky, indignant, spoiled.

I want to be fixed, oh god I hate being broken.

"Cause I'm a train wreck
Waiting to happen
Waiting for someone to come pick me up off the tracks
A wildfire borne of frustration "

Madam Sarah McLachlan