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There's something incredibly wrong with me. | |
Posted Jan 21, 2004 - 17:49:27
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The title of this post applies to something in the second half of the post, so don't read into it during this first part.
Okay, so I went and got food with Derek, Chris and Heather today. I was originally going to just get lunch with Heather, but it suddenly turned into a group thing last minute. It was fun, and not what I had intended, but fun. Some of the stuff I needed to talk about with Heather got talked about over the phone though, ahead of time - so it wasn't a total wash. And hanging out with the guys is always fun. Since I won't have that many more times to do so before I go back to Eau Claire, I'm kind of grateful that it did turn into a group thing.
It was a good time.
And now onto the alluded to part two. And I want to reiterate that this has NOTHING to do with part one, not the situation and not the people -- because this might easily be misconstrued to be about something that I talked about the other day. Which it isn't. Yep, something is incredibly wrong with me, I'm pretty sure. I have this habit of jumping to conclusions. Conclusions that can break my heart.
See, I wouldn't always do this if it weren't for the fact that I have a history of being right 50% of the time. I don't think I'm right in this case. In fact, the world would have had to turn 100% topsy turvy for me to be right in this case. Everything.
Of course, last time I said that, Heather and Chris started going out, so what the hell do I know.
But, rational left brain tells me that I have to be wrong, so we're going to chalk this one up to raging paranoia coupled with being mildly depressed. Or, at least since I won't know if my raging paranoia is wrong or right for a week or two... and since whether I knew or not wouldn't change the outcome, I'm going to spend the next half an hour talking myself out of it.
But I do this. I jump to some paranoid, irrational, bizarre conclusion. I recognize it as being irrational, so I don't go around running away from nonexistant problems. But a part of me twists up inside, and feels like it's been torn out everytime I think about it.
This is all rather pathetic.
Update 1/22 at 1:47 AM: Oh, great -- guess who's COMPLETELY F***ING RIGHT. Why I just don't trust my gut instinct to start with when it comes to these things, I have no idea. Oh wait, that's right, when I don't want them to be true.
- Traegorn
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