A close friend of mine, who I once made the mistake of believing myself in love with, once told me that I was an idealistic realist. As contradictory as it sounds, it makes perfect sense.
I guess what he meant was that I was idealistic in my views about right and wrong and how people should be, especially friends, family and loved ones. He figured me for the sort who would expect to be treated as I treat others. In that sense, he's right.
But I am also a realist. I know people won't treat me with the same courtesy and respect I treat them. I know some people just cannot be trusted. I know that there's no point having friends especially when they can easily stab you in the back. And I definitely know that how I feel for someone may not always be reciprocated.
My biggest problem is that I am able to see both sides of a coin. And my sense of justice is incredibly strong, which is why I'd make an awful lawyer, which is why I quit my ambition to be one. On the plus side though, I can solve people's problems. I can rationalise any problem, which of course leads me to being unable to actually detest anyone for long periods of time. Well, any problem except my own.
Yet the crux of the matter is that, this realistic idealism has made me unbearably insecure. Goodness knows how much I don't like feeling this but it's there. Remember the meme I did yesterday? It had nothing about fear. Yet my one fear is that I allow this insecurity to overwhelm me to a point that I become paranoid. If this happens, I just know that I will suffocate anyone around me.
I could take the easy way out like some people do and blame it on things that have happened to me in the past. Let's see, I could blame it on sexual molestation, being jeered at, being made unfulfilled promises to, being lied to, the person I loved not later telling me he loved another and, of course, being blamed for something which I had no control over. But I am an adult and I'm not about to let my past control me. That's silly!
So what's my point? My point is that, I don't trust easily. Sometimes, not even when the truth is before my very eyes. I guess in my twisted mind, if I care and trust then I'll be opening myself up to more hurt.
And that close friend of mine? After all that had happened to us, he told me one last thing before we went back to our separate parts of the country. He told me that I had so much love to give that he was actually afraid he was not able to handle it. The cynical me thought that he was just trying to make me feel better....until a few other guys I met told me the same thing. Which I saw as a way for them to sweet talk me into going to bed with them. See?! I am cynical!!
*sigh* There's no point to this entry. I'm doing a Mac word vomit.
I think I'll stop now.