Last update:

2005-02-14
6:27 p.m.
Bi-Polar version 15

Even more of my psychotic ramblings

Continuing the ideas form my earlier entry which i ended short because i had to go to class

I have been resisitng romanticizing him as much as I can.
Sometimes I think my attraction for him is hte worse thing for me, and others i think it is perfect. Another hopeless romantic is the last thing i need, all we do is make eachother worse, and stretch and pull and build the delusion till it is monolothic
and dangerous

but i think that the tall lanky young gentleman and i could very easily balance eachother out.

He could come out of it a little less jaded, i come out a little more realistic, alot more rational.

The idea of being in a relationship where saying I love you doesnt become vital for survival after the first week or so is an amazingly attractive idea. The idea of not rushing emotionally (or physically for that matter) is thrilling.

at first i thought that if anything happened i would be 'molding' him, but now i realize lack of experience doesnt mean you are a blank slate. I sure as hell wasn't

my philosophy was very much written on me befor ei had my first kiss, my first date, my first boyfriend, my first girlfriend, my first time. I wanted a knight in shining armor, and picket fences, and idela love, i wanted the prince to ask me to drop my hair and climb a grotesque knotted mass to reach me. I wanted him to drink the poison, i wanted to stab myself in sorrow. sure my relationships have changed that, but not much.

It hasnt changed much partially because i am the moth, charging at the flame, and my loves are always other moths . . . or lightening bugs, fireflies, portable versions of the ideal i am slamming myself against over and over.

of course iam looking at all i am saying about the tall lanky young gentleman, and i must realize i am totally jumping the metaphorical gun in my mind here. nothing has happened, i played with his hand and kissed him on the cheek and sang some beatles with him.

half of me is screaming that i am seeing something in nothing, half of me is so sure of itself

i dont know, maybe i am wasting my time, maybe i dont care

but hell, i think we all need to be a little dillusional