Afraid

I remember when I could come on this diary and write whatever I was feeling, whatever way I wanted.  Cryptically, or laying it all out there for everyone to either tend or throw salt on my wounds.  And believe me, I’ve had people expertly or novice-ly do both.  I’ve had people comment on entries of mine, seemingly with nothing more than the malicious intent to hurt me, and I’ve had people leave notes of understanding, love, and compassion.

When I started this diary and people I knew began reading it, I censored myself because I didn’t want to piss off the people I knew in person.  When I was encouraged to not censor myself, to write in this diary as I had previously because this was my area of the internet, I did, and it pissed off someone I know.  Lol, so much for not censoring myself.  I wrote the entry explaining my bad feeling over things that I’d read from Melanie’s now very much ex, Ken, and how, based on what I read, I really didn’t like him.  Okay, I turned out to be right about him, but in all honesty, I didn’t write that entry as well as I should have.  I stand by that I could state my opinion about him on here, but I should have written it more tactfully.

Yet at the same time, I was willing to put it on here, even though I was fearful of repercussions.  I took my chances and even though Melanie did tell me off for the entry, all in all, I think it gave us a better understanding of one another.

But now, I find myself closing off from just about everyone.  I don’t and can’t seem to trust like I used to.  I mean, for example, Lexi’s stepdad claims to have met/knows personally all these different famous people, including Weird Al Yankovich.  And while he’s telling the stories, I’m sitting there, politely paying attention, but at the same time, thinking, "Yeah, and I’m supposed to believe this?  Where’s your proof?"  Heck, he claims Kevin Costner asked for his autograph at some kind of festival thing lexi and them go to every year.

Years ago, more than I care to say at this point, I would’ve believed that without question.  But after everything I’ve been through, what with Will, and Mike’s mom, Dan, Mike himself, I’m pretty much not able to just accept something on face value.

I’ve lost so much of my innocence, I’m grasping at straws to try and get any semblance of it back that I can.  Yet so often, I look at the people around me and can’t help thinking how . . .  not necessarily immature they are, but how much of a different wavelength they’re on than I am.

I still sing songs, but so often, I shy away from the romance ones.  Even the ones about break ups and heartache.  I find I don’t want to sing those songs because I don’t relate to the lyrics anymore.  I’m not broken.  I came damn close because of everything Mike put me through, but I didn’t break.  Right now, I’m single and enjoying it.  I know I’m not ready for a relationship of any sort yet.  Yet at the same time, I wish for love.

But I know the kind of love I hoped for when I was younger was the kind of love that’s in fairy tales.  The kind where the prince and princess meet, fall in love, overcome whatever obstacles, and get together where everything falls into place and they live happily ever after.

Life’s not like that.

And it took me so long to realize that no guy can save me from myself.  I’m the one who has to pull myself out of whatever I’m going through, because no one else has the power to do it, and if I keep relying on others to do it for me, I’m just gonna wind up resenting them when they fail.

I’m afraid. And I wish I knew how to trust someone else with what’s going on in my head.