Tuesday. 30 March 2010.

Heh. Today doesn't really count as Tuesday, it's only half past midnight. But I updated really early yesterday. So yeah.

I'm still listening to Monty Python, ironically. Only it's the Holy Grail instead of random sketches. It's very dark in my room and my back is definitely not happy about sitting up for so long. The fan is on, Frankie is asleep... all in all, a peaceful evening.

Today was, for lack of a better term, wonderful. Nothing in particular happened to make it so lovely - it merely existed in a state of happiness that I guess life has taught me not to take advantage of. I got more than I thought I would done with my outline, managed to work my way through a bit of Cave Story (although I had to stop, since I kept dying and making really loud whiny noises), and got to talk to Charles a heck of a lot.

I'm kind of embarrassed about not thinking through my 'threat' earlier today. I should know better, but somehow I always manage to screw up like that. And I know Char doesn't think anything of it, or maybe he does but I'm assuming he doesn't think anything of the fact that I... I don't know. Hushing. Anyway. It was so strange. The way he pulled me through the thought processes I should have gone through - would have gone through - it reminded me a lot of my mom. I was a bit ashamed of myself, truth be told. But... I know he didn't mean it like that, only did it out of love and concern. And when I say he reminded me of my mom, I merely mean that mom is the only other person who really takes the time to sit down and explain why she's saying what she's saying (even if she does it /after/ she makes some big change...).

I find myself wondering less and less, worrying for smaller periods of thought. Concern over Charles' and my future crosses my mind less and less. I can't - physically can't - question his motives. Every time we have a little 'fumble' like we did earlier today (I'm not even sure if that's an accurate description), I become more and more assured of the fact that he's everything he seems. Well, that he's telling me the truth. I still have trouble believing that he won't just vanish one day, or he'll randomly go "LOL jk I'm really not that amazing" or something like that. People can't love that strongly (even though I have felt it myself, that treacherous side of me whispers), people can't be that firm in their feelings and dedication (and the reason I can't believe that is because I'm still staggering from Jack, albeit in just a few manners). People really can't be that alright with just sitting and watching each other, silent and reveling in the joy of the others' presence. Other people can't want that kind of dedication so early in a relationship.

Sometimes I question myself, though. Am I an idiot for getting so attached so quickly after I had my heart torn out of my chest and crushed under Jack's foot? Shouldn't I learn to withdraw, save myself, protect myself? But the moment I ask that I end up shaking my head. It might be smarter to pull back, but I never said I was smart. I may be used to holding my heart close behind walls, but my nature is to put it out in the open, hand it on a platter to the one I love. Changing that would be changing myself more than I want. And so I trust, and risk getting hurt, and battle with the walls that attempt to crop up. Funny, though. Charles has the natural ability to coax me out. I don't want to hide from him.

I texted Jack today. Told him that I felt bad about being a bitch to him, but couldn't think of any other way to act. He said he was close to going insane from knowing what he had done to me. I... um... I told him to man up already. *rubs at the back of my head, embarrassed* Told him that if he felt so bad he should stop moping already and do something to fix it. Of course he asked me how, and I told him that I had no idea, but he was in possession of brains and a heart. He didn't respond. But... I feel better now. It just feels wrong, acting like a bitch. To anyone. No matter how much they may or may not deserve it. Firm, yes. Annoyed (for brief periods of time) or angry (if it helps them see sense), yes. Bitchy? Accomplishes nothing except resentment. Yet another one of my quirks Charles has to put up with, me scattering rainbows and rose petals. It's how I live, though, as natural as breathing.

Well, time to end this rant. Deep breath, run for the cliff, and leap - sweet, sweet freefall. And maybe I'll figure out how to fly.