It's a funny thing why I love my privacy so much that anyone spilling anything about my private life is tantamount to suicide...but I keep spilling personal quirks and eccentricities of mine to peole through word of mouth, email, snail mail, friendster(TM) bulletins and this random blog.
So every time I hear someone know something about me I thought only God and the lice in my head knew, I keep punching myself but I remember that I practically handed that information to him (or her...I'm not biased) on a silver platter.
Remind me to kill the guy who said that a secret can be kept by three people if two of them are dead.
I just hurt someone dear to me.
Okay, not just hurt. I hurt her a couple of days ago.
But I did.
I just found my belief in true love battered and broken, and now I don't know what to believe. Out there, my nemesis is laughing her ass off at this newest predicament (this 'her' is not to be confused with the girl I just hurt!) and is probably wondering why I suck so much.
Uncertainty. That's what did me in.
I'd rather not risk hurting her with my immature uncertainty, so I let go.
And now I'm beating myself up (as yet again...for the umpteenth time) for a decision I didn't want to make, yet I was compelled to do.
Love is not about taking whatever hurt or pain your loved one gives you. It just isn't about that. Forgiveness is stupid if aggravation is repeatedly done. Continual acceptance of pain given is unnecessary martyrdom.
I don't know what I'm saying anymore (but my tirade on love and pain is absolute truth!).
Am I cursed to forever hurt the ones I love? Am I cursed forever to traumatize every stranger that comes in my path?
Jeez. I hope not.
I love her. I know I do. I just don't know what to do about it. At least, not yet.
I leave you with a quote. This is really cool.
I'm in love with a girl...a philosophy major. To her, I don't exist. And worse...she can prove it.