Patterns

It's funny how I usually respond to this situation with my same old behaviour. I call myself a screw driver. Easy to explain, I keep screwing things. Besides from my work(probably because I try very hard), I'm always trying to screw myself. Is like knowing that you should wait for the green man to cross the road but you like the danger. And you can bet I'll keep doing it until I get hit. When it happens I crumble and cry and keep asking what I did wrong.

So now I have been trying to watch myself, listen to my friends and realising that words do have a strange power. It's hard to keep watching myself 24/7 but I do also have angels that keep telling me how to and what for. Helps. A lot.

University is getting more difficult and because I'm in a really good group, the standards are set very high. Is good, make you work harder and is always a friendly competition.

Work couldn't be better. I lost a bit of the passion from the beginning but to be honest I work the hours that I want.

I met a guy. A really nice guy. And like when you are in your first trimester you want to keep things wrapped for fear, for self-preservation. What can I say? Is so easy to screw things that I want to keep all hidden. I can't really do, I have to talk and talk with my good friends and expel all the demons that keep flying above my head. And I need to process everything. Read texts messages 20 times, think 400 times before reply, and make sure my OCD behaviour possess me and make me do what I always do.

I met a guy, and he's awesome. He probably has thousands of issues like me but now I can't see a single one. So i keep myself busy trying hard, very hard to find one. Kind of sad. I got over my first pattern, he left his mobile unattended and I didn't check. Silly? If you are looking for, you will find. Simple like that. And when you don't find, you find strange why you can't find anything ( maybe he has a morse code or whatever-your-crazy-mind-can-think-of). Last night he experienced my first passive-agressive response to his text. I was right, he was probably being funny but because what he said push my buttons I had a kind of fuck-you-whatever-good-night-mr. And he called, and he said sorry and made me feel a bitch for freak out with something silly. So I opened up and shared a little bit why I was being so concerned. Scars, simple like that. Scars that I really can't pretend I don't have and prevent to get more. And (fuck me) he once again was amazing.

I could have hold myself but I didn't. I didn't go and fuck the guy next door but did something I'm no proud of.

Anyway, should I try harder?