I'm in the fucking pressure cooker. As the end of the month nears and Michelle is supposed to move in, my inclination to flee grows exponentially. It's not the baby I'm not ready for, it's her.
If the term is baggage, than I'm that guy who checks two oversize bags and still has an over-the-limit carry-on. I have suitcases, backpacks and fannypacks brimming with issues. They're all about my insecurities. I don't want a relationship, yet, I'm not prepared. I don't want to have to work through this by victimizing her, it's not fair to either of us, but likewise, leaving her (physically or emotionally) is also not a possibility, as it has the same result.
I am in a pure bred Catch-22 scenario.
Suicidegirls are not the only kind of suicide I think about these days. I'm also entirely too much of a man to cut my own throat and leave my family and friends to clean up the mistakes behind me.
In the past I just leave the relationship when the going gets tough, and eventually that became sleeping around. It's so much easier to just fuck without caring. It's good when it's good, and you're gone when it's not. I can't forgive people's pasts, and even though they're ghosts, they're ghosts that keep me from my sleep. I'm deep in week two of sleepless nights. I just remind myself that I don't know what I'm doing. I'm twenty-two, and I've yet to be in a relationship for more than five months, save the one I'm in now, and would like to be years from now, but somehow doubt.
I'm going to start my first experimentation with drugs, maybe. At least I know I won't be losing sleep to the drugs. I have a lot of firsts ahead, acid, ecstasy, prescription pills... and I'm sure I'll find things to try along the way.
If the term is baggage, than I'm that guy who checks two oversize bags and still has an over-the-limit carry-on. I have suitcases, backpacks and fannypacks brimming with issues. They're all about my insecurities. I don't want a relationship, yet, I'm not prepared. I don't want to have to work through this by victimizing her, it's not fair to either of us, but likewise, leaving her (physically or emotionally) is also not a possibility, as it has the same result.
I am in a pure bred Catch-22 scenario.
Suicidegirls are not the only kind of suicide I think about these days. I'm also entirely too much of a man to cut my own throat and leave my family and friends to clean up the mistakes behind me.
In the past I just leave the relationship when the going gets tough, and eventually that became sleeping around. It's so much easier to just fuck without caring. It's good when it's good, and you're gone when it's not. I can't forgive people's pasts, and even though they're ghosts, they're ghosts that keep me from my sleep. I'm deep in week two of sleepless nights. I just remind myself that I don't know what I'm doing. I'm twenty-two, and I've yet to be in a relationship for more than five months, save the one I'm in now, and would like to be years from now, but somehow doubt.
I'm going to start my first experimentation with drugs, maybe. At least I know I won't be losing sleep to the drugs. I have a lot of firsts ahead, acid, ecstasy, prescription pills... and I'm sure I'll find things to try along the way.