blushes

This weekend I am going to visit a boy, and see a couple shows. To be honest, I'm terrified. I'm absolutely terrified. I'm excited too. But terrified. Excited/terrified. There is a reason for this feeling but I am going to keep it to myself for the rest of my existence. I don't even think I can put words to it. I hate the way that I feel whenever I really like someone and I am counting every single step that I make, watching it carefully and afraid of my own words. I don't trust a soul, either. I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to trust him. I'm in the perpetual state of bolt at any moment. bolt. bolt. bolt at any moment you see... And I'm working extremely hard to control myself at every moment and remember how long I have been waiting for many of these things to happen. It doesn't seem real at all. I could run for the rest of my life if I wanted but at the end of the day I'd still feel this way.

It seems so unreal to me and it makes it seem as if I should bolt. I am supposed to be unhappy, right? I am supposed to feel like I'm acting, right? I never realized how hard it was to not act. To simply be. To not feel the urge to lie about anything in order to mask the truth of who I am. I hate feeling like I must be tougher than I am. Or quieter than I am. I don't like any of it, but I do it anyway because I was told from a young age to do just that. It's the one unique psychological aspect of my childhood. (Paired with an autistic twin brother whose developmental concerns outweigh yours and you'll see two parents just trying to get by and teaching us both the same ways to behave. Silent yourself. Center yourself. Meditate at every moment. Think before you speak.)

I see friends doing better than me and I think if only I were to do what they are doing. But really, how does that benefit me? Only me. I am thinking about this now because of the amount of courage it has taken me to reach this point. To get on the bus. To confront these feelings. To walk out of this shell of protection. To drop perceptions that weren't based on anything substantial. It's making me rethink everything I want to do with my life. Part of me doesn't care anymore. Part of me does care. Part of me cares but isn't sure if it's right anymore. I do not know.

It hurts but I am doing it. I am accepting how crazy I really am and how I really feel. I've done, said and thought things the past couple of months that I forgot were even still there. And it keeps happening. Deeper. deeper.

How is something so beautiful have to be so terrifying for me?