To be or to be alone, the tale of the overthinker

Long time, no complaints. Hello again!

I haven't had any kind of a crush in a long time. Ever since I broke up with the Viking, it's been quiet in all fronts when it comes to love, sex or even flirting. I've only kissed one guy since, and it just didn't feel right. I didn't get the right butterflies, only the nervous kind. And it all felt just... wrong. Not a right fit, even though this guy is a lovely guy. 

I thought it was too soon. I've been such a mess, and not in a hot way, for years now. I've been considering living the rest of my life without the spark, because everything gets so complicated every time there's any feelings involved.

I'm not saying relationships have to be complicated, I mean that if your mental capacity to handle emotions is all wonky, catching the feels can be almost exhausting, and definitely confusing.

On to the story then.

So, I've been flirting with this guy over the internet. He knows little to nothing about me, and I about him, but the past few days has brought me to life in a way I had totally forgotten that flirting could do. It's like being a teenager again. I forgot I had hormones!

But work is super stressful right now and I don't have time to wake up in the middle of the night to think of his... well... penis. I'm as focused as a banana the same moment I log out of work stuff.

I don't know what to do! Should I cut the flirting out or ride it out and see how long it'll last? Nip it in the bud before it gets even more complicated? Or enjoy the waves of feeling something?

Birds sing. I can hear music. I want to write again. Life feels good. Is it worth it? Will the downfall destroy me? Even if it's nothing, nothing serious AT ALL, it might still be more than my fragile self can handle.

Why am I such a mess?

If you don't heal what hurt you, you'll bleed on people who didn't cut you.

But then again, when in doubt, choose life.

Aaaargh! Confusion is thy name!

Send help.

Charge!

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind? I don't. But lately I've been feeling like this:

Imagine a tall, dark, ominous castle. I'm just outside it with a group of people. They are all proper knights, and I'm just a sorry squire. There's an evil dragon inside the castle who is holding women from different cities hostage. They have been imprisoned for a long time. They might not be alive anymore, but I did hear a scream a while ago.

I have my short sword, my helmet and my keen attitude to save the women and with them the villages they were robbed from. Unfortunately it is a foreign country and I don't know my way around the castle. I'm just a squire, I wasn't meant to fight the dragons. I turn to the knights. I tell them I heard a scream and if we act fast, we might still be able to save someone.

Squire, from Dungeon Defenders

One of the knights has fallen asleep while I was admiring the castle. He is snoring loudly and does not even budge when I poke him. Another one said he'd take a leak and we haven't seen him since. That was days ago. One has broken his sword and he is swinging the rest of it in the air. He is ready for action, but unfortunately the sword is not.

The fourth one looks at the castle, turns to me and asks if I know are the women blond. I do know, because I have seen them. He doesn't care for brunettes, and since he would probably have to marry a rescued woman, it would be better to know beforehand if they are to his liking.

Then there's one who has all the equipment and everything, he sits there sharpening his sword and he knows everything about dragons. Unfortunately he has already promised to free a dozen other virgins, maids, princesses and whatnot. And the castle is not even in his territory.

The problem is that even though the castle is tall, dark and ominous, the distressed maidens are on the first floor. We could see them, if we just would peek through the window. And actually the dragon is quite old and lazy. If the maidens are dead, they have probably died of hunger, and not because of the enemy. We could pretty much charge inside and the rescue would be done in an instance. And I can't storm the castle, because... well, it seems I've lost my bottoms as you can see from the picture. I keep poking and poking the knights to do something. One is missing, one doesn't care, one doesn't have the equipment and one... I don't even know.

We are all fighting our battles and usually it's not like a fairy tale, more like a comedy.

Suicide Bunnies

Damn smoochies are here again

It is that time of the year again and like in 2015, I welcome you to the

VALENTINE'S DAY EXTRAVAGANZA!

I have no idea why everything is an extravaganza for me, but I guess it's a funny word. And funny words should be used often.


Next stop, song of the day. For this love filled day I chose Cake's Love You Madly. Now, let's get down to business.

 That's it. Have a very merry day with your loved one or a friend or your computer!

To the moon

Hello. My name is Luci and I'm icky.

Chiara Bautista

When I say icky, I don't mean disgusting. I mean icky as in loveydovey. Icky is something I say when my sister is smooching with her bf. Icky is when I see an old couple walking down the street still holding hands. Icky is when my friend tells something cute about their significant other even though they've been together forever. Icky is cute. Icky is romantic. I am icky and I like icky.

I was looking for a piece of lyrics or a poem the other day from my old hand-written little books which some has worked as diaries on the side too. Fourteen years ago I had met a man I first described as a person who fills my need of human interaction. Someone who doesn't satisfy my soul. Later on I've been complaining about him constantly. Seems like all my heartaches and worries on the verge of becoming an adult had something to do with him.

There were so many things that made me want to scream at the book "Get out, get out get out now!". But of course I can't turn back time and go tell that silly little girl how fucked up the situation was. Why I didn't understand that was not how it was supposed to go, why I didn't have the courage to leave, why I didn't have more self value... I will never understand. But I guess I had to go through that to become the person I am today. We all have to grow up somehow and that relationship was my way of doing it.

The contrast the diaries casts for this day is amazing. I'm finally in a relationship where I'm valued by both sides. There are so much feelings, good all around. We can talk about anything. We can joke about things and we both laugh. He does these sweet little things and I like to think I do the same for him. I can feel it, the feeling is almost touchable.

Though it is too early (I know what you cynics are thinking over there), I can tell this is a good relationship. A healthy relationship. And I wonder why is it so hard to recognise one from all the crap out there. I wish I could make a list of signs here, just like in the earlier post about the signs how to tell he loves you. But relationships are tricky and people are so different. Something works for others, something doesn't.

It's about the feeling, how the other person makes you feel when you're around them and when you're apart. If you write in your diary "he makes me feel so insignificant and dumb", the relationship might not the one. If you have to work out artificial rules for your relationship, then you might be screwed. I don't mean the occasional who does the dishes or a monthly date night out, but if you want to start regulating something the other person does on a regular basis... Not a good sign.

There are no shortcuts and sometimes a relationship can feel like a drag. That doesn't mean it's necessarily doomed. But if you constantly feel the relationship doesn't give anything good for you, if it makes you lose yourself and makes you feel bad about yourself, if you constantly question why are you together, then it might be the time to let go. I'm not saying you deserve more, because some of us are naturally pieces of shit, but it will probably work better with someone else. Or alone. Being alone can be satisfying too.

I know this relationship I'm in is going to last from two things. One, is how he makes me feel. He has managed to open few tiny doors in me that I thought were shut forever. My viking left to raid coasts overseas for a month, and when he was leaving, he sounded very worried about me. As if I would miss him so much I couldn't function. Unheard of! No one has ever been worried about me like that. It's supposed to be the other way around. Since I'm made out of rocks emotionally and ice flows through my veins.

But he is right. And apparently I'm made out of marshmallow and cotton candy. It's only been few days but I can already feel the upcoming four weeks weighing heavy on my shoulders. To ease my longing I hang post-its on my wall for everyday he's gone that I can take out one at a time. Having something physical and visual to remind me that he is not gone forever hopefully helps. I also decided to write one thing I like about him on every post-it and I will probably give them to my viking when he returns from his travels.

The second one is how he treats me. I think it was our third date that he gave me a little Darth Vader toy to add to my "collection". I have around ten stuffed animals on my couch's back rest. That wasn't the only collection he wanted to contribute to. Let's just say he is not at all against me having a file full of dick pics.

So far every time a guy I like has asked me what I want for a present, I've answer the moon. I have never gotten that, which I guess is a good thing since I've heard rumours that having a moon is quite crucial for Earth to function as it should. Asking for the moon is a similar joke as to ask for world peace as a present.

Now. What is icky is that this christmas someone actually tried. I think this is closest one can get giving the moon without actually going to get the moon from the sky. My viking found a jeweller who makes jewelry from moonstones. The picture doesn't do it justice. He also bought me a piece of land on the moon. How. Cute. Is. That!

But I don't mean that he treats me well because he brings me presents and tries to keep me fat with chocolate. It's also how he helps me with everything I need help with - even when I don't even want his help. It's in how he drives through the night after a long shift just to get to sleep next to me. It's in his way of asking how my day was and being actually interested.

How he is reminds me why I was with my ex's in the first place. He reminds me of the good qualities they had that were slowly getting buried under the sand of time. My viking seems to have "best of both worlds" combining the things I've liked in men before and at least so far I haven't yet noticed what the downside of him is.

Today you can choose the song of the day yourself. I suggest picking one of these options:
Savage Garden - To the moon and back
Frank Sinatra - Fly me to the moon
King Harvest - Dancing in the moonlight
Mike Oldfield - Moonlight shadow
R.E.M. - Man on the moon
(It's not like they have much to do with the topic, except that they are songs that mentions the moon. But choosing yourself is important here because you can decide how the moon makes you feel.)

The Viking is away for the 14th, but don't you worry, I have no intentions of skipping Valentine's Day Extravaganza. Maybe it's even more important this year. Since I miss him. And since I'm finally in love. And I think he is the one.

But don't tell him I said that.

Because admitting it would be like admitting defeat in the world of rocks and ice.

More like me

It creeps up on you. You don't even know it first. It's like a slow shadow that covers you before you know it. It's a dark cloud that you didn't see until it's on top of you and it starts to rain.

And when you look back, you realise you should have known.

It's been dark. As it is supposed to be in the winter. But damn, it's been dark.

You've been sleeping a lot more. Few naps here and there. Waking up around noon. And you're still so damn tired. Maybe because of all the nightmares you've been having.

You stay home. It's so comfortable there. Easy access to naps. And it feels like such an effort to put on decent clothes. And leave. And meet people. Damn, you've totally forgot how much you hate people. And crowds. But mostly people.

Stay home and listen to music. Dark music. It gives you shelter. You're not alone in this world. But damn, sometimes you really want to be.

When's the last time you ate? No, that chocolate doesn't count. Nor that popcorn. Wait, when's the last time you actually cooked? Have you been eating what ever you can emptying the closets just so you don't have to go to the damned store?

Then one day you take a shower and  just randomly start to cry. Damn.

And this is when all the alarm bells went off in my head. I had had suspicions before. It's the sleeping that gives me away. When I feel like I'd rather hang myself than wake up for work, that's a sign.

I think the reason why I didn't notice earlier was because I apparently have the yearly Spring-homemaking-boom on too. I've never been depressed in the spring. Spring is the time when the days get longer, the winter starts to fade away. And because of all the increased light you can see how dirty your apartment is and you get the urge to clean it and probably rearrange it too. You feel that you need to change something in your life.

I don't know yet if this is a real episode. It might be because it's been coming for... years now. Or it might be a case of the (November) blues and it'll pass before I notice. What ever it is, it is something new. I never wanted to stay home and clean at the same time before. Don't tell my mom, she'd probably have a stroke... about the cleaning, not the blues.

So it's spring and I need a change in my life. Moving from this apartment before I graduate would be foolish. I still have my thesis to write so I can't really get a full-time job either. And where I am now is such a good place to be. It's flexible, the people are nice, there's no pressure (which might be part of the problem)... I would be stupid to change it now.

I've been thinking about the things I can change. I could go on a diet and lose weight. It would give me something to do and I would feel better after gaining so much weight in the past year. But when you don't really want to leave the house, it's really hard.

I could try to quit smoking. I heard about these pills that have helped people. But they might be for the people who have been smoking for fifteen years and two packs a day. Oh, and they might cause mental issues. So maybe not.

Also I don't know if it's a good idea to change things that can affect my mood negatively.

So I've been thinking of learning something practical might help. I've been thinking about driving and how a licence would be useful. I've been dabbling with this idea more and more every year because it would make travelling easier. No more one driver when going on a road trip. Easier to participate in fieldwork, and if I'd start now I would probably have one before next summer's fieldwork. So only positive things, and I would have time for it too. But it costs a lot of money and I'm not sure if I have that.

Year after year I dream more about a bigger house where I could have a studio of my own. Every time I would have the blues I could just lock myself in it and create the only thing good coming out of this: art. Sometimes I feel like someone chained my hands behind my back in this apartment and the only thing I can do is to smash my head against the keyboard.

I know I haven't published much here lately, but that doesn't mean I haven't been writing. I have two unfinished posts hanging there waiting to be finished.

Which they'll never be, but that's life. It will never be finished.

Sometimes I wonder if people can see the blues in me. A friend of mine noticed that I had been talking about sleeping a lot more lately and he asked if everything was okay. That was my first clue.

But I don't think it's something you can see. It's not something that is written on your face. It's something you can hear. It's hidden in the sentences, in the exhausted yes's when something needs to be done, it's in the silences and the absences. It's so much easier to notice something that is right in front of you than something that hides and seeks cover from curious stares.

Maybe that's a good thing. Fake it until you make it, they say. Fake it until you start to believe in it yourself. And what ever you do stop eating candy, drinking alcohol or what ever shit it is that you stuff your face with. That will just make you to be what you eat. Or at least feel like it.

The song of the day is In Flames - Alias.

Wut is luv, part 3

(read part 1 here and part 2 here)

On this random moment in time I have a strange creature roaming around my life called the boyfriend. I haven't used that word in such a long time that it feels so weird to use it now. In this very moment, I'm in a relationship. Is it there tomorrow? It's hard to tell, but I hope so.

This is new. We've been going out for only couple of months but we've already met each others families and few friends. We've bonded, entwined, with great hunger. We've talked about the future with such extravaganza that the relationship coach in my head tells me to slow down.

I wanted to put all words about love on a ban list. Because I could tell it was a monster that was trying to escape his lips. I've heard the words before and I'm very sceptical towards them. Especially Dragonborn left few nasty scars saying he loves me, almost making me say it too, and then giving up on us suddenly and as suddenly finding another girl. What even is love.

But maybe it's not the scar that creates the problems. Maybe it's the overthinking. Maybe it's me. I don't go with the flow of feelings. I don't let myself go overboard because I'm scared that that would be rushing things and rushing tends to fuck up a relationship.

Lately I've been thinking about love a lot again. I've been wondering if I ever told anyone that I love them without meaning it. And here I mean love as I see it today. Everlasting and strong. Not just falling in love but giving a piece of my heart to someone. I don't believe you can stop loving someone, and these two things I compare, have I told someone I love them without loving them anymore this day. If I get to stretch it a little and think about the person they were when I said it, then the answer is no. I've never said I love you to anyone I didn't still love this day. But I don't love the person they've become or what they are today necessarily - that's the stretch.

The people I've told I love them can probably be counted by fingers only. It's not many. I don't think I've ever told my mom I love her. I do, of course, and I know she knows it, but I doubt I've ever said it. Words are so powerful. It's scary to say them. It emphasises things that are ordinary or even mundane. The way I love my family is nothing that requires fireworks, it just is. It is there everyday to the end of time.

If I say I love someone, I really mean it. Really, really, really mean it. And I expect the same from people saying it to me. Which is wrong because people don't experience love the same way. Who am I to say that you don't love me, when you just as well might. It's just not the same way that I love you.

I am capable of feeling love. I can feel love sparkling on my skin like I was part of #teamEdward. I feel it when I leave and a giant Hulk has grabbed me by my torso and squeezing all air out of me. We feel it when we look at each other for longer than a glimpse. It's not only in the silence, but it's in the everyday stuff too. It's how I feel when I cook for someone special, or try to sleep very still that I don't wake up the person next to me. It's in the present, not in the dreams about the future and definitely not in the scars of the past. I've always been capable of feeling love.

But I'm having hard times recognising it in the moment. I know what it is afterwards, but in that moment I'm not fast enough to name it. I think I've reached the point where I know what love is and being capable of feeling it. Now I just have to recognise when it happens. Because it's quite awkward to know you've fallen into a pit and you can't get out and you're stuck there forever and all eternity, only after you've landed, hit your head and smashed your skull. I think most people would know already when they have tripped. Quite awkward.

It's odd how one person can at the same time be spontaneous and extra careful. But I don't doubt. I ponder. I think what if's, I think is it better's, I wonder. I weigh. But the excessive thinking might look like doubting for the outside world. And doubt is contagious.

Today on this very moment there is a strange creature roaming around my life. I call him the boyfriend. Whether or not he is there roaming tomorrow, I can't foresee. Only time will tell.

Bonus track: I was googling for the song "does he love me, I wanna know" ect. because I couldn't remember the artist, and I came across with some golden stuff again. Though this time I felt that my blog is pretty much the same as these trashy magazine thingeys talking about love and signs and such. Maybe I should come up with quizzes too about knowing if your hamster loves you and what makes you look good for your shopping bag.

Here are few lines to remember from those sites:
"Sometimes, girls have a habit of getting annoyed for no apparent reason at all." (source)
"Men typically fall in love in a woman’s absence, not her presence." (source)
"If he’s hanging on to your every word about yourself, then he’s in love." (source)
And last but not least: A sign that he loves you is that "[h]e wears the sweater you gave him". (source)

💋

What was on the bread

Lately I've been thinking about my latest long relationship a lot. Probably because I had a little fight with him the other day and we haven't talked much lately. Probably because I met a guy who gives me the same kind of vibes as he did. Or maybe it's because I had a long talk on the phone with a friend who is having troubles in their relationship. Let's call my ex... umm... Stan. That'll make writing this easier. So my ex is Stan, and the new one is so new that I have not yet established a good nickname for him. If he sticks around, he'll get a name.

So anyways, about the vibes. I don't mean bad and definitely not anything bone chilling. More the opposite. I feel good and calm with the newbie like I did with Stan. Stan and I were together for years and in many ways it was a good relationship. Okay, a great relationship. Most people don't get to experience that even once in their lifetime and here I am at the threshold of another one. It wasn't perfect of course. Nothing in this life is perfect, and there's a reason we're ex's.

When I try to explain to people why Stan and I aren't together, it's always difficult. We broke up years ago and still I get asked that, especially if we're seen together. "Tell me again why aren't you guys together?" "Is there any chance you could get together again?" "You guys were so good together." Yes, we were. No, there isn't. And here's why were not together.

It sounds so vain when I say it, but it was the toasts in the mornings. But you have to see this as a metaphor for the entire relationship. We were together for years, Stan and I, and few years we lived together too. Stan was great. He wrapped me up in a towel after I took a shower. He made sure I was warm on a cold winter night. He was tentative in many ways. If I went out with my friends to a bar, he didn't join me because that was not his scene, but he usually came and picked me up. Even at four am. Even if I was sober as a crystal glass and didn't need anyone to walk me home. And he made me breakfast.

You don't know how many mornings I flipped because of that damned breakfast. I had it the same way every morning. I still do, if I'm having bread. When I wake up, I put the boiler thingie on and go take a shower so the tea is not too hot later. I have green tea in the mornings. With honey. (Granted, three years ago I didn't use honey.) And the teacup is always fully filled, because I would use a smaller cup if I wanted less. I have a glass of water on the side, and it has to be cold. The water, not the glass. I have two slices of bread. Toasted. Next part depends on what there is in the fridge, but the elements never really change. I put butter on the bread (or cream cheese) and I smear it equally on the bread. That means the sides too, not just put some on the middle. Then I put cheese, because I like how it slightly melts on the toasted bread. Then I put ham or something whatever kind of meat there is. And then bell pepper, cucumber or tomato or something, again what there is in the fridge.

A long explanation, right? And not too easy to remember. How long do you think it would take to remember it? A week? A month? More than six years? I'm super grumpy in the mornings, and I told Stan multiple times that I get cranky when I don't get the breakfast I like, so it's better if he just doesn't make it anymore at all. But because he wanted to make me breakfast, he did. And I was angry. Because it was never right. And I need it to be right in the mornings. It just has to be right. Otherwise I don't survive the day.

He never learnt, and I was the bad guy. In the relationship with Stan most of things were like a stage. I tried not to get mad and yell, because he got so clogged from that. There were not a single fart in the room we shared. But it wasn't fake either. It was just how we were together, and it probably explains why it didn't last. Next time you see us walking around in the town, you know why we're not together. It's because of the bread. Stan was wonderful, and he still is. He's just not the butter for my bread.

Now back to the newbie and the thoughts. He doesn't make me feel like breakfast in the mornings. Oh no. He makes me feel like wrapping a big towel around after a shower. And this feeling makes me grateful for what being with Stan taught me. It taught me not to be so angry, not to nag all the time. It taught me to talk about things, all kinds of things. It taught me that two different kinds of people can quite easily make it work if they want to. It taught me that not all past relationships are waste of time. It showed me what is an equal relationship, where both brings something in it. It taught me not to poison the other person and it taught me to hold my own. Being with Stan made me the person I am today. I might not have been all the things I am with him, but I sure as hell learnt about myself so much that a retreat to a mountain cave for soul searching would not have been better use of time.

It's so important to be with someone who makes it easy to be yourself around. And it's so easy to be in a relationship where you forget who you really are, where the poison runs in both of your veins and the small voice in your head telling you that you're better than this, has gone silent long time ago. It's hard to end a relationship that you thought would last forever. And it is really hard to be friends with your ex's. Even for me and Stan, who didn't have that toxic atmosphere.

We don't have time for shitty relationships. Most of all because it molds us to someone we're not. It makes us lose ourselves and regret the things we say and do. A bad relationship makes us afterwards ponder not who the person was who we were with, but the person who we became during the relationship. If you find yourself radically changing because of a relationship, think about it hard. Is it a good change? Do you want to change as that kind of a person? Are you doing it deliberately or are you changing because the relationship is forcing your soul to twist and turn? Do you like the person you've become? Is that person you?

Relationship in the modern era is not an altar you're supposed to sacrifice everything on. Of course you're supposed to work for it and not toss it away if the breads are not made to your liking on the first morning. But you're supposed to work for something you want to keep, something that gives you something too. If you keep giving but you get nothing back and you change for it, stop. Find another way. Maybe the relationship is not for you. And I can guarantee you'll do better on your own than in a toxic relationship. You'll survive the breakup and you'll learn to stand on your own two feet again. Don't let a relationship make you bitter and twisted. Fight for what is good, and if there's none left, know when to give up.

Relationships are never easy, but they can still be good.

There is no future in the past

This post combines many of the past issues I've wrote about so don't be alarmed if it sounds familiar. Before I start, this post needs few things pointed out. For those who have been with me longer already knows this stuff but here's a recap:
1. I started dating again.
2. It has brought all kinds of problems.
3. I've been awfully busy.
4. I have DADDY ISSUES written on my forehead.
5. I'm in the process of going through professional mental health evaluation to see if I'm crazy enough to need treatment. Because hey, let's face it. We're all mad here.

The more time passes, the less I believe. I don't necessarily lose hope, but I just don't believe. Not in fairy tales, not in toughing it through everyday life. I just don't believe I could find someone who is not too perfect but perfect enough. And I'm glad of that. Believing in a world that does not exist is exhausting and doing so one can lose contact to reality. So finally, after over thirty years, I have finally managed to bring my feet to the ground. There are still small clouds going by my head, but everything takes time.

I have an appointment with a psychiatrist in few days and I've been thinking about what to tell her. She's been asking what it is that in the relationship with my father affects negatively in my life and other relationships. I didn't have an answer for her earlier, but because it's been weeks since we last met, I've had plenty of time to think. Think, think, think - that is my curse.

This has to do with dating. Again.

So I met a man. Yes, yes, yes, I've said that before. No, he is not too good to be true. No, he is not the prince charming, he doesn't have a white horse, he is not mysterious and magical. He is pretty straightforward, honest it seems, and real. I wouldn't say this seems too good to be true, because there is a possibility he is going to murder his neighbours dog and feed it to me as a stew. Or worse, make stew out of me. It's too early to say if we're at all compatible.

Physically we're not an ideal match. It doesn't feel like we've been kissing each other our whole lives. He is so much taller than I am that my calves aches after we've met because I have to reach for him. We can't be with each other every bit effortlessly, no, we have to talk about things and practise how to be with each other. And that's a good thing, I think. Because if we can solve little problems from the beginning, we can tackle bigger issues later on.

If there is a "later on".

I'm trying to not get my hopes up. I've been down that road before too many times. In the end of that road is only shrugs, some "meh"s and shadows. All of those experiences I carry with me now and they make it harder and harder to believe. Though we all have baggage we bring in to new relationships. Whether it is a romantic relationship or any other kind. It is easier to notice them when it's a romantic one though. There are things we're just not able to let go. But they do say we're looking for someone whose demons plays well with ours. So maybe there's hope for the damaged good that we all become at some point in life.

I hate what the thinking does to me. With every man I meet, I wonder if he is like my father. Am I going to make the same mistakes as my mother did? Has their relationship thought me to stay clear from all that poison, or am I to become one of my parents? And when it comes to relationships, I don't know which is worse: being a dick like my father or being heartbroken and abandoned like my mother. How do I recognise those things about myself? How can I prevent myself making the same mistakes over and over again, generations after generations? How can I make sure I don't bring the poison with me and drink it myself? But most of all, how can I make sure it's not in my veins and spreading around me like venom with every kiss? How can I protect not only myself but the other one too?

In relationships I bring both the curses and the blessings. I have been mistreated and because of that - and basically my whole history - it is very hard to trust anyone is actually serious with me. I also have had a good, profound, long and meaningful relationship, which means I compare a lot the old and the new one. But our baggage can just as easily be that we don't have experience. Either way, what ever the past we bring with us is, it doesn't make things easier. But we should keep in mind that that is what makes us us, and we should be grateful nonetheless. Constantly looking back doesn't make the future any brighter - there is no future in the past.

But wut is luv? I still don't know what love is. Sometimes I wonder if the cage I keep my heart in is the reason I don't know what it is. And maybe it's not about the other person. Maybe no one is supposed to teach love. Maybe you are supposed to learn how to love on your own. Maybe you're supposed to figure out what love is by laying yourself open to loss. Is love something that burns you, high voltage through your veins, heart beating so hard that it breaks your ribs? Is love something sudden, like a walk on a field and falling in an underground cave? Is it something unexpected, like a lightning strike?

I've had that, all of that, all at once. And it didn't feel like love and the only marks it left on me were scars. I think the closest I've gotten to love was when I was with someone and by the long time spend together, we almost melt into one. But there's a danger of losing yourself in the process and in the end it was only temporary. I would like something like that but so that it would last "until death do us part".

I want someone I can be myself with, someone cozy but exciting at the same time. Someone similar, but different enough. Someone to build pillow fortresses with. Someone to introduce to my friends and family. Someone who I'm sure of and with whom I'm sure of myself too. I don't want that person to be the adventure, I want him to be the one I can go on adventures with. I want someone I can tackle problems with, not create them. I want someone who can stand on their own two feet, someone who doesn't need me but wants me because they think I'm just absolutely lovely. And I want to think the same of them.

I wish this time I've found it. But if the past has thought me anything, it's more likely that it isn't. Though the chances are 50-50. Either it is, or it isn't.

Okay world, I'm ready. Bring it on. Towards new disappointments!

(I think the source for the comic is cutestrip, but when I tried to google it, I only found porn - though I'm not complaining...)