And This, This Is What I Don't Want

I'm feeling good. I'm feeling fine. I've been stable for a while now, or at least for a few weeks in a row. I'm starting to feel self-confidence in situations where I'd normally crawl under the table to hide. I've come to terms with the fact that, yes, indeed, I get really sensitive when it comes to matters of the heart. I've accepted that people have their own personal history, their past. That that past can be really simple, extremely convoluted or lying somewhere in between those poles.

It's nice you said hello again, I appreciate you wanting to see me again. Hell, it was wonderful to kiss you, to smell your skin and lay in bed with you a few times more. But this is what I don't want.

I don't want to wait for someone, for I've done more than my share of waiting with my heart out. I don't want to not know where I'm heading, to always have in the back of my mind that I might just be a nice little distraction. I don't want to not have the right to fall in love. I don't want to be part of a nice zoo of former frequentations and I certainly don't want to be in the same room as them while they talk about how good you were in bed. I don't want calculations and control in relationships. I don't want to have to explain to which school of thought I adhere when it comes to matters of love and sex. I don't want to miss you knowing you most probably don't miss me. I don't want to feel wrong in missing you. I don't want to me mistrustful or freakish. I don't want to have it said that if it all got messed up in the first place it was all my fault. I don't want to stick around, I just don't.

I don't want to get attached to you again. Oh no, I don't.

So this is it, really. Thanks for the plant. It was a gorgeous gift, on that I will cherish, trust me. Thanks for kissing me on my neck as I was brushing my teeth, it was a lovely thing to do. Thanks for hugging me and making me laugh.

Take care, ok?