So I don’t know, I guess this is me dealing quickly and getting over the initial giddiness of it all. No, it’s not me treating it as if it were some sort of novelty, because it’s not. It’s actually very “rock and roll!!!” as what Mr Supervisor would say, and did say. To put it in my own words, it’s all…lovely yet puzzling (because I’m not as consumed by it as I was in the past, maybe). And I’m actually quite surprised that I didn’t start nitpicking the whole thing and tearing it apart, like, three seconds after. All right, I admit: I did. But I did myself a favor and told myself to save it for another day.

So I don’t know, this is me typing fast and typing fast whatever comes to mind. When I was 17, I had an I-could-love-you-comma-the-whole-of-you (his words to me) kind of thing with this guy who told me to write in red and edit in white. Red anger, white anger. It made a lot of sense back then, until things turned sour between us and I realized that there was nothing to be angry (or sad. Just regretful) about. And now I’m typing fast and not editing and it’s not out of anger. I actually think it’s the sugar or the caffeine or this insane sense of urgency of wanting everything to happen all at once. And maybe or definitely something more.

So I don’t know, I’m trying to unlearn certain habits and certain character flaws that are totally manageable and ditchable if only I weren’t such a pussy or if only I weren’t so overprotective of myself. It’s not something that I can help, especially when this past year or so, people (who know and barely know me) have been telling me to “guard your heart”, “leave something for yourself”, “don’t settle”, “steel bars to the chest!” and other variations of the same thought. Not like I really needed to be told those things, as I’m the sort of person who can easily dismiss things and emotions and people…and that’s, like, really bad. I’ve been meaning to get rid of the self-absorbed brat in me, but it’s kinda difficult when being emotionally distant is one’s defense mechanism.

So I don’t know, it’s an amalgam of a bunch of emotions that I don’t know where the hell they came from and that I’m not used to and I feel like I’m thisclose to throwing in the proverbial towel because I can’t deal or I’m not sure that I want to deal with it. It’s rrrreally scary because the last thing I want is to hurtle through this and not be in control of…things.

So I don’t know, it’s funny— at the same time, I find myself not caring if I lose control and I don’t mind that it’s something bigger than I am. Nope, not at all. I feel like a schoolgirl, giggly and giddy. And then I feel bad for being such a ditz. And then I feel bad because it feels like I’m playing a game. And then I feel worse because I tell myself that I should be playing a game. To protect myself. But what’s there to protect myself from? It’s love! It’s my red hot beating heart, skipping a beat and beating faster! But my heart is an idiot, I remind myself. But it’s love! And the thought of him loving me, too— even if I don’t feel it (because I’m taking things at face value), even if I don’t feel it as much as I want to feel it (because I’m taking things at face value), even if I refuse to feel it— makes me feel tingly and lightheaded and happy and candy sprinkles-y.

So I don’t know, sometimes I feel bad because I don’t know what this is or what I’m getting into and for feeling like it’s not enough. Years ago, I cried through most of Wong Kar Wai’s 2046 because the movie hit too close to home. There’s this line from the movie: Love is a matter of timing. It’s no good meeting the right person too soon or too late. I just realized yesterday what Phil realized two years ago: it’s not love that’s a matter of timing, but relationships. It works perfectly for me.

So I don’t know, I’m also a bit sad and paranoid and I’m chalking that up to eventual saudade and something else I can’t quite put my finger on and maybe I’m just being silly (silly, not stupid), feeling the need to be like Sylvia: 1 — I will not overwhelm him by breathless over-enthusiasm. 2 — I will not throw myself at him physically. 3 — I will be moderate, yet intense and interested. In a way, this is me pre-empting myself because the whole situation is suspiciously like this Gavin DeGraw song which kinda sucks, so I’ll just shrug it off and quote a line from my favorite DeGraw song, instead: You’re so hypnotic on my heart.

So I don’t know, this is kinda nice. Loved (not just fucked!) incoherent. Loving incoherently.

I guess I was wrong when I thought: hey, this is weird, I’m not so consumed.

EDIT.
STEEL: It’s nice to know you’re starting to better understand and get a hold of your feelings. You’re not a heartless wench like I used to think you are after all.
STEEL: Ditz translation: GHEIZ00R

Which got me thinking: what is this GHEIZ00R that Satan Steel speaks of? So I checked the dictionary and found this visual definition:

Cool.