What's In A Mind At 3am?

Lots of things that keep you up until 8am, and then you finally fall asleep and sleep till 2pm.

I need to pack. But I'm procrastinating for once. And besides, I don't really have much to pack anyway. That was one of the pros right? Of staying so close to home? I like being able to come back, right?

I'm so... I don't know.

I had a poetic way to say it when I was suffering from insomnia induced by rampant thinking last night while staring at the ceiling, but I really don't remember it.

She never slows down / She doesn't know why / But when she's all alone / Feels like it's all crashing down...

That poetic line I came up with was something about a crumbling beneath my feet and reaching my hand up to the sky and grasping nothing but air. But it sounded so much better before I finally fell asleep last night.

I have had two boys tell me that they love me. They said it first. And they both said it the same way, in approximately the same amount of time. At the end of the first month, I heard them say "I think I love you." And the first time, I was confused, because I wasn't even sure if I liked the person or not. And I didn't want to hurt his feelings, and after a few days, I said I love you too. And I was okay with it. And I think, at the time, it was true? My 14 year old feelings reflected Taylor Swift. When somebody tells you they love you, you're guna believe them. But then I got bored. I wanted to date someone else. And I know for a fact that he actually loved me, he punched a hole in his wall when I finally told him I was done. And I felt nothing. No regret, no loneliness, no nothing. So did I really love him? I really don't think so. I'd like to believe that love doesn't... No. Love simply can't dissipate that quickly.

And so the second time. There are plenty of examples throughout this blog of me saying that I would love him forever and always, but... once again, when I decided it wasn't right, every single feeling instantly dissipated. That one, however, I know the cause. I loved the idea of him, I loved the person I created in my head. And finally I realized that my ideal was not the actual person, and that realization made all those feelings disapear. I started pulling away months and months before we finally broke up, when he made me cry on senior trip.

And the main point behind both of these reflections... I lied to both of them. All the time. About everything. About stupid things that didn't even matter. Because even though I said I loved them, apparently I didn't love them enough to risk letting them in.

So no, I don't really know what love is. And no, at this point in time, I do not believe I have ever been in love.

But I did something completely different this time. I told the truth. Why? I can't really say. It felt right. Except... I am so scared. Terrified.

Because being honest with him means that I'll also have to be honest with myself. It means that I'll actually have to open up and stop directing conversations and maybe even eventually talk about things that I have tried to surpress for years. It means I will cry. And most importantly...

Being honest with him means I'll have to be honest with myself. Which means I'll have to be honest about what I'm feeling. Which means I'll have to share my feelings. Which means I'll have to step out of my comfort zone. Take a risk. Let my feelings actually grow, and be sure of them for once. It means relinquishing the ability to walk away unscathed.

Being honest with him means that I am giving him the ability to really, seriously hurt me.

And I am so very, very, afraid of getting hurt. I have never been able to deal with it well. Even when it's an accident. I keep my lies close so that I keep people at arms length because I know the mean things that human beings do to eachother sometimes without even meaning to.

Being honest means losing that distance.

Being honest means getting hurt.

And I'm scared.