This is the part where I lay it all down. I should probably wait to be completely honest, but there's no time like the present, right? For all those of you who don't know me, this will sound like the typical rants caused by teenage angst. Maybe it is. But if you take a closer look, it is so much more. Things are not always what they seem, objects appear closer than they are, and all that jazz. I could claim to be misunderstood. And perhaps I am. But I don't think that has any relevance to . . .anything, really. So here's the deal - I feel an incessant need to be liked. I almost constantly want attention. And though my moodswings do not always come at a certain time of the month, you can bet your bottom dollar I will have shifted faces by the end of the conversation. I cannot ever finish what I start, and if I happen to complete a project, I am never satisfied with the results. I set myself up for heartbreak, and always want what I absolutely can not have. Not without some serious compromising of morality. My heart changes as quickly as the wind, but a second of my undivided attention is worth the world. I don't follow through with most of what I say I will do, and blame it not on fear, but on distraction. I am capable of being the most pessimistic person I know, but keep a lovely smile all the while. I am also indecisive. Part of me wants to break out of my skin and run. Another part makes me stay out of sheer curiosity. Some of me wants to grab him and kiss him like I have never before. And still, another part wants to spend all of the money I have worked for and fly away. Just for a hug. I could honestly die happy if I could just feel him kiss my forehead. The comfort I feel from a hug and a kiss on the forehead is enough to make me never want to move again. I struggle with relationships. Not so much maintaining them. Beginning them is the hardest part. And I deal horribly with loss of any kind. It's like that exact moment you can feel someone slipping away. And no matter how far you stretch, no matter how much you twist to fit the right mold, you remain an inch too short. And you have to slowly watch them fade off into oblivion. That is what this all feels like. Constant wondering. Why can't I just be happy? Why am I never satisfied? Why is it never good enough? But what I always fail to realize - it IS good enough. I want everything to fall into my lap. I have grown weary of trying anymore. Selfish, I know. But who doesn't feel the same way? So I guess all I can really say for sure is that I am typical. But the first step is admitting your problem. Over and Out. .Map