Primal Desires

Journal,

Hey, my favorite human. How are you? Well, journal, fucking confused. I am catching feelings, and it is awful. My insecurities are quicksand, snatching at my ankles, like Cedric in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, where the ivy feverishly pulled him into the depths of its clingy roots. This is me and my delusions. So fun- a cheery good time. It is almost like watching a movie in my head; whenever Shane does something small, i.e., cover me with a blanket, my mind immediately begins shifting this into my narrative of who I want him to be—confirmation bias at its worst.

Last night, Shane came over and hung out for a bit. The whole time, I think, DO NOT TALK ABOUT FEELINGS (repeat x 10), and then disregard it altogether. Of COURSE, I talk about feelings, except now, I am thinking, wait, do you really like him? All while blabbing about how I want to understand the dynamics of what we have so I can know what to invest. Paradoxical and slightly amusing.

I don’t know, journal; it’s stupid biology. Once I realized how much I liked his smell, that’s it; my primal instinct will not be swayed. Anyway, this entry is going in circles. Update later- goodbye, you anxious queen.

Love always,