So I like him. I mean, what's not to like. He's awesome. He's gorgeous. I love to see him, and I hate to say bye to him. It's simple and clear- I like him. So why do I gotta be so complicated? Because that is how I work. In the most unconventional ways. I'll probably end up hiding my feelings. Maybe some hints around it here and there, but for the most part-- he won't have a clue. It may be that I'm lazy, or maybe I'm just scared. Or maybe I just know that I should avoid guys considering everything in my past with them has been a complete fuck up. BUT MAYBE- I've finally learned from all the stuff that went on. Maybe, just maybe, I'd be cool to have a little something going on with a totally cool guy. There's also the big, bold chance that I don't even have to be thinking about any 'what if's?' because there is always the chance that he doesn't feel the same way about me at all. And all of this thinking will remain pointless for history. Yes, complicated is me. Atleast I'm certain of a few things in my chaotic ways. Certain enough to have NO DOUBTS whatsoever. Those being: I like to draw. I like Van Morrison. I like laying in the middle of nowhere. I like baths. I like drinking green tea. I like unpainted nails. I like dreaming while in the awake state. I like listening. I like writing random blogs that are thoughtless explosions of the emotions from my typing hands.