Baltimore
13 December 2003


You know, there is a reason that I never talk about anything serious. Ok, ok, so not NEVER. But for the most part, I don't talk about serious things. Or write about serious things in here. Reason being, I have this phobia that if I talk about something great, it will disappear. Or something will happen to make me look stupid regarding the subject. I know it sounds crazy. How can my simply talking about something ruin it? Well, trust me it can. And when it does, I get extremely angry with myself for allowing it.

The latest example: a few entries ago, I mentioned being "completely smitten" with a guy. At the time I was completely convinced that I'd end up in some sort of symbiotic relationship with this man. And that was only a week ago. Oh the things that can change in a week.

In the past week, my feelings for the man have dissolved. I can't even figure out what happened. Just all the sudden, things aren't anything like the way they used to be. Suddenly the things he says, when he does in fact talk to me, seem sort of insulting and obnoxious. Tonight, we actually went the entire evening without speaking once. All of the sudden looking at him makes me angry. Annoyed. Irritated. It used to make me happy and warm.

But really, nothing has changed. Nothing except for me writing in here. That must be what did it. It was like, if I say it aloud or write it on a page, then it's like I let the feeling out. Suddenly it's more real. And because of that, it can be ruined. And it is.

It's all my fault, too. I knew this would happen.

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