So, how exactly do I bring that one up? Oh, that's right, I don't.

Yes, I know I promised myself that I wouldn't post any personal life type of junk, but this post has been writing itself in my head for quite a long time now.  I hate it when that happens.  Something just builds and builds until it gets to the point that I can't help but say it.  Unfortunately for me (and my, er, reader... Thanks love for being the only one to follow me) I can't actually say it out loud to the person that I need to hear it.




Really, how would one--hypothetically speaking, of course--tell a summer fling turned now sometime friend with benefits that--hypothetically speaking, again--you're in love with said person?  I mean, we all know I could never bring the subject up.  "Oh, yeah, by the way, I know you don't give a flying fuck about me, but I'm still as in love with you as the day I first kinda let it slip that I was...  You know, the day you dumped me."  Can you say awkward?  I know I can.  And it sounds eerily like the aforementioned statement.

See, I've had this little notion in the back of my head for awhile now.  Just my imagination getting the better of me, as it usually tends to do.  I picture myself as the perfect case study for a class that I'm pretty sure I made up, called "Abnormal Psychology: 101"  Me, being the ideal candidate for the case study thanks to the, um, unique way my head works when it comes to emotions.  I dislike getting hurt.  I dislike it to the point that I usually don't let people in close enough to even have the opportunity to do so.  This aversion to emotional pain is a long story that I don't have the time or energy to type out now, but it does have an actual and very explanatory origin.

But, I am still human.  I do, on occasion, have to actually let real humans into my life.  And, because I fear what s/he could do to me so much, I tend to make a mental switch.  Just like a light switch, it has an on and an off option.  The moment s/he even come close to causing me physical or emotional pain, *flick!* switch goes permanently off, and I could give a rat's ass what happens to him/her.

Doesn't really matter who said person is, or how long I've had him/her hanging around.  I mean, the moment my husband started fucking whatserface, *flick!*, and that was that.  I haven't cared about him since.  I realize that it isn't healthy, or normal, but that is the way it is.  He was my husband, and still that was my natural reaction.  The same thing happened with my former best friend.  "Oh, hey, you're gonna screw me over?  *flick!*  You can go rot in hell now for all I care."

This convenient reaction has never failed me.  Until now.  Why now?  Why him?  Why, even after all the hurt and tears that he's put me through, can I not go a week without inviting that hurt and pain back in?  I've done it over and over again.  The pain isn't getting any easy.  If anything, it's been getting worse!  Where is the switch labeled with his name?  It's a very short name, it shouldn't be so hard to label a switch with it!

I want to just tell him how I feel.  I do, in the normal, irrational, idealistic part of my brain.  This moronic and sadly large portion of my brain is convinced that if I do, things will go back to exactly how they were.  I mean, after all, I still care way too much, so that must mean that deep down, he feels the same, right?  He must be just like me, totally unable to verbalize it.

Urrrrrr duuuuuurrrrrrrrr.  I told y'all that the part of my abnormal psychology was large, moronic, and irrationally idealistic.  I do know better.  I do know that I should just let go.  All I need to do is find that switch...  Or, you know, actually say something to him.  Y'know, like...  in person, instead of via text message or retarded blog post that he'll never read.  Wait...  Didn't I decide that saying something would be idealistic and pointless?

Someone needs to create that class, preferably at a major university.  I could be famous, damnit.