ardor, apologies, & schmaltz

It was a nice dinner for those interested. A very romantic night, the equivalent to which I have only had about three times in my life. A candlelight dinner, some wine, italian food, a cat, and part of a humorous kung fu movie... in addition to the akward attempts at "getting to know" the other person. It played out strikingly different than my first date with Evan. I didnt come out of my shell really. I practically refused to lead conversation. I resent anyone, no matter how sweet, who attempts to make me "open up", I'll "open up" in my own damn time. And, trust only goes so far for anyone. I am allowed my secrets. At least for a while...

I suppose this is the part of the post where I tell you dear readers for about the billionth blog entry that I feel guilty and crazy and worthless and like a horrible person. Really though, I feel hopeful. If some guys like me then maybe I have a chance of finding "the right guy" some day or at the very least the right kind of guy. Also, I could tell you how I have ruined everything as always. I dont really feel that though.

It is funny how every time I start to like myself again I realize how many people have screwed me over, and I have just allowed it. I all of the sudden feel the need to fight back, to stop the "abuse" as it were. I suddenly feel wronged, like people should have been treating me so much better all the while. The truth is, however, that people are often human and humans generally will treat each other as well or as poorly as those other humans are behaving like they are worthy of. A man in a fancy suit carrying a nice briefcase will be treated with more respect than the man in his jeans hunched over at the back of the room. I am remembering how I used to make friends, what used to draw people to me, my own little bit of charisma. If I am truly happy and confident other people seem to really enjoy being allowed into "my world" as it were. I lost that for a while... I would have the occasional on day but most of my days were offs. I had it friday night. I had it again. It felt good to feel good.

That being said, some people were hurt along the way. I have hurt many people along the way. I feel sort of like I am in recovery though, and my future health and stability is much more important than hurting my druggie friends' feelings. I guess I feel a little bit of guilt for that. I am after all, above all, loyal. But I also feel like these things that I am doing are for the best in the end. I might go through a slight phase where I care very little about what other people think, as I am mainly focused on finding out what I think and making myself happy. But once I find out those things, and once I can as in my former youth maintain my own happiness, I will make people so much happier and more people happy than now, hopefully. So mainly what I feel is hope that the pain I am causing people will be made up for later on, and just hope in general.

I feel different after these past few days, in the way that one must always feel different after something happens to them that they were sure could never happen to them. I feel good, about as delightfully guilty as after eating a bunch of chocolate, and a little worried that some people may not understand.