I wish I wasn't restrained by every aspect of who I am.

I can't talk coherently in social situations. I can't think of any thoughts. It's all a blank sponge, absorbing what's said and having nothing to add. Unless it's something ridiculously out of place, unrelated, or negative/offensive. Which isn't what I'm even feeling in the moment, but somehow, that's all that's there. Always so wrong.

I can't talk to the people I desperately want to talk to...because then it's too obvious. So, instead, I completely shut them out. He is so beyond me in every possible way. And yet, in the moment, I don't mind one bit, even as I try to stop the glow from sparking. Even though I still can barely manage a word, or make eye contact, it's okay. Until it's passed and all I can feel is the vast difference and how NOT okay it is to be so socially freakish. I chide myself constantly, trying to get the courage to say something commonplace, trying to reassure myself that it's okay to suddenly split the character I've assumed and be suddenly, desperately, friendly. And then I completely shut down. No one with intelligence or maturity could ever manage being with me. I'm too damn serious, too damn introspective, too god damn insecure, self-destructive, moody. I can't slice through all the crap in the blink of an eye and arrive on the other side, confident, balanced, secure, calm, all qualities I admire in this person. What is it like to be wired that way?

And Mom just walked in the door. I gotta get a new laptop sometime---using her computer. Sad face. Maybe I'll come back and edit later. Or maybe I'll leave it like this, raw.