accidental flares of love burst through the atmosphere


I have no self-control. The only thing stopping me from being addicted to all sorts of terrible things (beyond my years-old addictions of caffeine and emotionally unavailable men)  is the fact that I have no interest in doing them in the first place. Whenever I tell myself I'll spend less money, drink less, eat better, work harder, run more, floss daily...I instead spend like an asshole, drink like an asshole, eat like an asshole, work like an asshole, sit around like an asshole, and never floss. Without fail. Devilhanna is camped out on her own shoulder, resenting and challenging her own authority. No one can tell me what to do, not even myself. How does that happen? The only type of authority I've ever taken seriously is that of people that remind me of my father: smart, kind, introverted souls that inadvertently make me feel like I have to walk on eggshells so as not to annoy them or fuck up. I will go wayyyy out of my way to impress those kinds of people. I understand them and feel comfortable around them and desperately want them to like me; if they're hard to please, then I MUST please them to prove to everyone (no one cares except me) that I'm impressive in some way. Any other type of authority isn't taken seriously, no matter how well we get along or how much it may seem otherwise. I can't figure out why. So does this mean I don't take myself seriously either? I feel like I take myself too seriously sometimes, so where exactly have I drawn that line?

When I was a teenager I fell in love with everyone. I was in love with every boy I ever had a crush on. It was always urgent and life-altering. And I never got what I wanted. Not even once. Naturally, the teenage girl in me assumed that it was I was ugly (I wasn't), I was fat (I wasn't), I was annoying (all teenagers are annoying, so that couldn't have been it either). I recently had a conversation with someone I had a big fat crush on during my senior year of high school, and while we laughed about the past they told me it wasn't that they didn't like me back - it was that I was independent and intimidating. I was too much. It's not the first time I've heard "intimidating" being used as a reason for this sort of situation, either. I am certainly independent, too, but I think a lot of it is a front.

The not-getting-what-I-want part has certainly changed, but I am still blinded by hope more often than anyone else I know. It doesn't matter how many times I get hurt or how much reason I have to turn around and leave a bad situation. I WILL NOT leave it be if there is even a speck of light at the end of the tunnel. I will take that speck of light, turn it into headlights, and use it to guide my way. Some of that is rooted in the fact that every time a person has exited my life, they've always come back to finish what they started. Literally every time. I let them do that without anger because I'm guilty of it, too. I do my own thing while they're gone, but I do so knowing deep down that I'm only OK doing my own thing because I know they'll be back someday. That's probably not healthy. Nope, that's definitely not healthy. I think it might be that when I get attached to someone, it comes on so fast and so strong that I usually overwhelm them and they need to take a breather and get their bearings before they come back, better equipped to handle me. It's always better the second time.

I know I'm a handful. I know I'm not easy. I know I tend to not have much in common with a lot of people and that I'm usually too stubborn to change that. But if I decide I want to impress you I will either do it or I will die trying. I know I'm worth the return flight.

So here I am, doing my own thing.

Welcome to the place where time stands still

Ends of the Earth