Another Entry...
At this point, I still haven't published this yet, but honestly, this is starting to feel like therapy for me.
I woke up late this morning—if anyone cares. It's Tuesday, and people get punished for being late.
There's this guy who's making my heart flutter, and I'm actually tempted to text him back. As dumb as that sounds, you know that feeling? When you're vibing with someone, and it feels great, but deep down, you already know nothing's going to come out of it.
Yeah, that's exactly where I'm at.
It feels nice, though. My heart races when we talk. We connect so well, and it's been a while since I've met someone I have this much in common with.
And yet...
I'm not interested.
But I am.
But I'm not.
It's complicated. I feel like I already know how this story ends. I know me, and I'm just waiting for the right time to ghost him. Disappear. Vanish.
It sounds ridiculous, I know. Cowardly, even. But maybe some of us prefer cowardice over heartbreak.
And here's where someone will pop in with, "Go out! Explore! You're young! Give love a chance!"
Bullshit.
Don't. Love will strip away all your armor, cut off your breathing, and leave you exposed. And it hurts. Badly.
I usually prepare myself for heartbreak before it even happens, just so I can numb the pain when it comes. I've become good at spotting the red flags.
The question is—am I actually going to listen this time?
I hope so.
Because if I don't, I'll end up writing my crash-out session right here. And let me tell you—it feels like shit.