A few factors have helped make things easier in the last little while, but perhaps the most significant is the realization that almost nothing around me has changed. That all cerebral influences have remained fairly static in activity.

And I think to myself, “How could I have been so stupid? How did I not come to this realization sooner?”

And having lived a little more, loved a lot more, everything seems brighter.

When I fall, I fall hard.

Yo.

It’s been difficult to write lately. Sometimes I peruse other peoples’ blogs, note their wit and style, and wish I could write as interestingly as they do. Then I remember that I only write for myself anyway and that it doesn’t matter if I sound boring or pretentious. Nevertheless, my writers’ block has partially been due to the fact that I’ve been experiencing some odd mood swings. It’s not even so much due to the ephemeral nature of my emotions, but more related to the fact that I don’t understand what I’m feeling.

Some things make me happy. Some things make me depressed.

I think I’m mostly just content, which is a feeling I’m not quite used to yet. It’s almost as if I’m floating in a pool of lukewarm liquid, unsure of what my senses tell me. All I know is that my dysthymic phase has long left me. For now, I have resigned myself to experiencing such emotions with an open mind, with the hope that I will some day understand them.

I remember wanting to keep my emotions in check a long time ago, wanting to become a completely cerebral person. Nowadays, I’m not so sure that this was such a good idea, not that I’ve been able to fully succeed in such a monstrous task. Perhaps a balance is needed in something such as this as well. A lack of emotions may cause a better appreciation for the few emotions one experiences, or vice-versa.

My rationale has changed on this because my experiences have changed. Growing up in a chaotic world of confusion and pain, I wanted an emotional barrier to prevent any further mental agony. Now, I’ve accomplished more, loved more, been loved more, and felt more. Perhaps I now feel that happiness is worth the possibility of mental anguish. Sometimes it feels as if I’m waiting for a terrible incident to revert my views. Life, however, seems to be getting better.

I just wish I knew what I was feeling.

Darren and I were talking about the unrequited feelings we’ve experienced, and he asked me if I ever felt like no other person could ever match up to the person I felt the strongest about. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I was afraid of the truth, and I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

I realize that it’s something I have to face, because it has affected my relationships.

Yes, I am very scared.

Sometimes I feel emotionally numb, as if I’ll never have the same feelings again. Infatuations end up being silly frissons. I’m not sure whether it was the intensity of my feeling, the fact that it was simply the first time, or even if it’s the fact that I haven’t met the right person yet.

It terrifies me when a female has many qualities that I feel are important for a relationship, but I have no feelings for them. It makes me think that I have some set of lofty standards that can’t be met. I feel horrible about it. I feel like a monster.

How can I know what I feel is true? How can one be sure of such fickle, consciousness altering emotions? It’s so difficult to remain cerebral in such circumstances, especially when the absence of such an adjective is what defines such emotions.

I’m barely scratching the surface on a subject I have so little experience about. What can someone like me say about such things? I should humble myself to others. I only know that I’m scared.

I’m scared that I’ll never fall in love again.

A few days ago I had a strange feeling. The idea that I was a virus stuck in my head. Anything I came in contact with became infected.

It just seemed like anyone I’ve become close with has been hurt in some way. It felt as if all my relationships always take a turn for the worse, and it’s my fault. I’ll find some tiny, forgivable trait, and turn it into a detestable problem. I’ll close off. I’ll hurt someone.

Sometimes I think that I hurt people to test my boundaries, to know how much they care. Perhaps I’m so insecure in my relationships that I need to be sure about how someone feels about me.

It’s as if I try to be friends with people I want to offend, so that they will hurt me back in some way, like Travis Bickle. Perhaps I need to be hurt.

I constantly feel as if I don’t know how to love. It’s such a frighteningly scary idea. I wish I loved more. So many times I believe that I am experiencing love, only to realize that I’m not, that it was just a fleeting emotion. Perhaps I need to be hurt to know that I can love.

I’ve only truly loved once. Perhaps it was so intense, so passionate, that all other emotions feel numb in comparison.

Perhaps I simply don’t know what love is.

I just know that I don’t want to hurt anymore.