Nobody puts baillee in the corner

(Jk, I love you CRJ; please don’t sue me for copyright infringement.) 

Being an emotionally-driven person is both a blessing and a curse. On the upside, it means I am passionate about the things I love, I can usually see someone else’s perspective before acting, and I tend to think creatively. (It also means you can cry a little bit harder at This Is Us than everyone else and not feel bad about it.) On the downside, you can send yourself into a panic trying to figure out how to please everyone, words cut a bit deeper, and I tend to act sporacticallly. (It also means you cry watching a cut and dry proposal video on your couch have to explain to your roommate why you’re openly weeping for no apparent reason.) Unfortunately, I’m experiencing a little more of the downside at the moment because being emotionally driven also means it takes you a lot longer to get over things, and that’s where I’m currently stuck (let me introduce you to my good friends Rock and Hard Place; they’re big cuddlers.) 

You see, when it comes to my love life, I have about as much luck as an Owens woman (but I don’t look as good with red hair as Nicole Kidman does).I’ve had some real doozies, and I mostly end up as the one hurt (and yes, I still have heavy emotionally scarring from The Ear Suckler, a’ thank you). Before you go any further though, know this isn’t about to turn into some pity party, woe is me, forever alone, drab nonsense that would make Sylvia Plath giddy. (Plus, I’ve been taking my Prozac regularly, yo.) I’m hear to, in all honesty, kind of work through some stuff. 

Basically, the last situation I was involved in (which makes me sound like Jen Garn in Alias but is actually far less excting), kind of destroyed me nine ways to Sunday. I wish it hadn’t stung so bad, but it did. To continue with the real talk, (because it’s 9:40 on a Friday night, and I’m already in bed with my dog, so you know I have nothing to lose) I’ve only recently, like a yardstick, found my footing. (I just booed myself, so there’s no need to publically shame me for that). That’s why I’m scared to like someone again, and here’s where being an emotionally driven person really comes back to bite you. 

There are only three things I’m terrified of in this world for over a decade: driving, thunderstorms, and appendicitis, but recently, I’ve considered adding a fourth: falling for someone. I’m terrified that the minute I actually admit to liking someone, it’s game over (and not in a fun, Spy Kids 3 kind of way). I’m afraid of making a wrong move or coming across too strong or not strong enough, so I’ve let myself become dormant. I’ve pretended not to be privvy to some things that made me internally blush harder than a 12-year-old at a One Direction meet-and-greet. I’m afraid of reading into something I shouldn’t. I’m nervous that I text too much or too little. I’m anxious of letting my cool girl persona (or whatever you want to call my interesting buffet of traits and quirks because I’m about as cool as an engine in Fast and Furious movie, and my traits and quirks don’t include car knowledge btw) slip for one brief second to be vulnerable. In layman’s terms, it sucks. 

I don’t want to stop myself from faling for someone, but I have to. For once, I’m going to have to let someone else do the work. For once, someone else is going to have to make the first move. For once, I’m going to have to be a Rory instead of a Lorelai (and I’m going to have to say a lot of Hail Marys and eat a lot of Pop Tarts to make up for that statement). I’m going to have to wait for someone to steal my book and write notes in the margins as a representation of their feelings. I’m not saying it’s fair, but it’s true. I just hope you understand.