My positive contribution to the day: I think this picture makes me look cute! :D

I am very happy with the position my life has comfortably fallen into. It took quite a long while and quite a bit of shifting, shaping, molding, and morphing, but my life is finally (hold your breath) a normal, functional, WHOLE experience that no longer requires more energy than I possess. Mainly because I now have enough energy to fuel a jumbo jet. But, that's besides the point.

Along with my excessive shitload of energy and current happy-go-lucky-shit's-awesome demeanor, I have something blooming, something wonderful.




I have thought myself defective in terms of relationships since I've been old enough to be in them. And, given that I don't necessarily have a great track record with not only relationships, but guys, period, I have come to expect very little from them and very little from myself so far as they're concerned. My second semester of college was heavily immersed in my inability to help myself and also my inability to recognize that I could be loved. I found myself far more depressed about my lack of significant other than about my state of actively dying, which in retrospect, I find peculiar, though not bizarre given the person I am. In my illness, I was manic, constantly desperate for human contact, proof that someone could tolerate me even when I couldn't tolerate myself. And, when all of the guys I involved myself with fell away, leaving me with none other than myself, I was consumed by the thought, 'See. You're alone. Dumbass.' At Renfrew, I realized that I didn't want a relationship, I had simply longed for the validation and was looking for it in all the incorrect places. So, after years and years of chasing after every boy within a five mile radius, I decided to give it a rest. And, since May, I have been astoundingly simple in my relationship ventures, the few there have been, and have preferred to be by myself than with someone I barely knew that wanted only one thing anyway (perhaps that's an unfair judgement, but I've known far too many guys with this desire). I suppose you could say I've been laying low.
My mother always told me that if I kept looking, I'd continue returning home with empty hands. I finally sat down and took a rest, focusing on myself, and what I have wanted for such a desperately long time has finally fallen into my lap. I never thought I'd see the day. I really didn't.
I'm taking things slow. I rushed my last relationship and it ended up a decrepit, rotting, smelling pile of garbage. Thus, my only interest in any of this is to be happy. And, I am.
I apologize for the vagueness. I just don't feel specifics are relevant at this point. Only time will tell, I suppose.

:D