disynthetic

This is what my puzzle box tattoo is all about. I have this thing where I hand [nothing or] everything to a person, and if the payoff isn't in kind or at least consistent with my efforts, I leave barely in tact. Reassemble myself feeling cheated, stolen from. And the jaded period is longer each time. I never used to have one, in fact, but recently I get it with friends and relationships nearly alike -- feel exhausted and as though I am looking at my guts on the table, which is totally my fault because I put them there, and why. I have to leave them. I walk away from another handful of my own guts on another table. I know there will come a point where I don't have it in me to reach in and pull anything else out -- not one more time, not for one more person. Not someone who could be my best friend or otherwise. I'm already getting to this point where it's exhausting, y'know? I'm already claiming "recovery time" from even just a week of conversation from certain people who are too much on my brain and too leechy. Is this it? So the puzzlebox was my space. To keep it in. Telling me to shut up, and leave some in. Not to touch some pieces -- not to feel tempted to take all of my pieces -out- and show them every single time to every person, and flip them over and show them the backs. And bend them and show them how they crease, etc. Because they won't be around later when I'm upset because the creases won't go away, etc.

Um.

Anyway, yeah, it's probably like seven.

But then again. Life is long. You grow. You will waste your first .. way too many people being compulsive. Well, you say optimistic. I say compulsive.

So maybe it starts over with perception.

Sorry for the paragraph issues. I woke up like a half hour ago. And haven't had coffee since yesterday morning. I don't understand how I'm sitting.