2001-08-07 4:49 p.m. I don't know why I get this way. I'm down on myself today. Down with no good reason. I sit at my desk and I feel fat. I look in the mirror and I feel ugly. I think about cutieGal and I feel set up for failure. And I get pissed off because I realize how terribly insecure I am. I'm faced with feelings I normally keep buried pretty damn deep. Somehow I know that this all traces back to cutieGal. Umm, let me rephrase that. Somehow this traces back to the way I'm acting because of my burgeoning relationship with her. The shell is being deconstructed. Or if not, at least cracked open. I'm a little standoffish, see. Never rude. Always warm, always charming, but never really close. On some level, it's been that way ever since I went through the Heartbreak. A defense mechinism, to be sure. A way to fight my biggest fear - rejection. You don't like me? Fine. Fuck you. I never let myself get really close to you anyway. But with her, I've begun to change before I ever really realized I *was* changing. I'm letting myself get close. I'm opening up. (I even told her all about my folks' divorce for Christ's sake. I've never even done that here.) I'm (slowly) exposing myself for her to existentially poke, prod, and examine and it's freaking me right the fuck out. Fight or Flight. Flight? Yeah, that's what the instincts are sayin'. Yup. Half of me is screaming that rejection is a possibility here and we should avoid that at any cost. Even if it means turning our back on a good thing. That being said, the (eep!) more mature part of me is giving a big ol' middle finger to the cowardly part and saying "Fuck off, dude. We dropped those highschool boy-like attitudes a while ago. Get with the program." And, as a result, this is what happens. Mindful that there is always the possibility of rejection; scared as hell over that; but grownup (and smitten) enough to want to say 'the hell with it' and stick around to see what comes up. Yes, I know that I'm not the most in shape guy in the world, and yes I know that (heaven forbid) there are better looking fellas out there. Neither is exactly what I'd call breaking news. But when I think about WhereThisIsGoing, I project my own insecurities on to her, and that's just not fair. I like her. Alot. And the idea of not being liked (alot) right on back scares me something fierce. You don't understand what I've been babbling about? Fine. Fuck you. I never let myself get really close to you anyway. downtown----uptown leave me a note, fool!

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