Mis-communication. Concern. Worry. Apprehension. These things just happen, right? How can you know if it's a signal of something more? Some deeper rooted problem, or if it really is just that...a mis-communication? Frustration is a result of this situation. Here I am, frustrated. Confused, yet again. Lonely and upset.
Being an open book is NEVER an easy feat for me, I can't even accomplish that with myself. That's right, the girl can't even read herself. I honestly don't understand the majority of my own feelings. Half the time I don't even know WHAT I am feeling. I know something is there, but what? Yeah, no access to that information. I think I need an updated security clearance card, or something. Trying to explain what's going on inside of my own head, most of the time, is a nearly impossible task. Presently...or at least lately, I've been earnestly trying (adamantly) to be more expressive, because it seemed (seems) important; seemed (seems) worth it. That strong adoration motivating me through this difficult task. So how is it that I now must always openly express my thoughts and feelings, my mind, or I'm being difficult? Somebody can totally shut themselves off, and repeatedly avoid discussions of their own deepest thoughts/fears/concerns, but the moment I do something even remotely similar I'm being unfair. Well, don't wonder why I can't understand what's going on, when it seems as if I'm not allowed to discuss my concerns about the situation. Perhaps I should I just let my worry and fret fester on the inside instead. Somehow that plan seems skewed as well.
"Cap'n! More frustration coming in! Off the starboard side!" "Somebody, MAN THE PORTCULLIS!!!"
And so, here I'm left wondering what to do. Why can't there be a clear course of action? I find myself torn. I just want to get in my car, and drive straight there, to the source of distress. I also just want to curl up into a ball and go to sleep...but that could just be the lack of sleep talking on that one. My spidey senses are tingling, I only wish that I knew what they were trying to tell me. I swear they speak a different language, I wonder if I could get a refund...or perhaps exchange them for a different, and easier to use version, because mine seem to cause me more turbulence than smooth sailing. Pretty sure that's not the point of the warning they intend to offer...stupid spidey senses.
I hate it when I know what I want to say, and I know what I think I mean, yet I can't seem to accurately and eloquently express it. Everything seems to come out jumbled. I never wanted to cause any grief, yet somehow have managed to do exactly that. Once again, I managed to botch things up. Smooth, really smooth. Perceiving the hint of a problem sometimes turns into a bigger problem. I guess trying to avoid some things is inevitable. Funny (not funny ha-ha) how quickly the mood of a bond can change. Going from counting down the seconds until that next moment, to wondering if there even IS going to be a next moment.
As little as a day ago, I was consumed with a fluttering heart beat, giddiness, and basically just all around twitter-pation. For lack of a better word, passion. Today, all these symptoms remain, but apprehension (and nearly guilt) suddenly are interfering with the manifestation of them. I'm craving that untamed, non-blemished, non-corrupted passionate sensation. That feeling of desperately wanting. And that's how I feel...whether I like it or not. I can't ignore it. I am twitter-pated. Smitten. Let's face it, I'm enamored with you and your charms. Damn it. Love certainly is a fickle thing. And here's one of those million dollar questions: why can't affection just be simple??
And I leave you to mull that over, as I momentarily continue to delve through my own search of answers in this personal sea of melancholy.
Just don't forget to breathe.
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