untitled: a little like my heart

Once, I read this thing in a newspaper. Seriously. In high school, I would read the newspaper. Anyway, I read this thing in a newspaper that said: "Just because someone doesn't love you the way you think they should, doesn't mean he/she doesn't love you." It's true, I suppose. But I'm selfish enough to look at that statement (that obviously made a huge impression) and say, right to it's eyes: Fuck you.

Fuck you.

I don't want to buy that. I don't want to acknowledge that someone may know how to NOT hurt me, and do it anyway. Doesn't seem fair. I offer everyone I know an advantage - because everything I am and everything I'm about is right out in the open.

My dad used to tell my grandmother that I was too vulnerable for my own good. That exposing my feelings the way I do would eventually be my downfall - that surely, it's a fault.

I'm beginning to agree.

Meet me everywhere

In college, I took the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Typical personality inventory, right? Except I had to take it twice because my E (for extrovert) was 99%. It gave me career choices like Social Worker, Teacher, Retail and Food Service. Got it. What it didn't tell me: You will most likely be a little... well, unbalanced.

On a very related note, my social wrap-up after nearly 30 years: Sometimes you're a part of stuff, other times not.
(I had to stop seeing my counselor. Can you tell?)