This is the thing: I’m a jealous bitch. Super insecure, and I’m always expecting people to leave me. Because that’s what they’ve always done, without exception. No one lasts in my life, no one sticks around more than a few months at a time. So I’m jealous, and insecure, and I need reassurance all the time. Which, in turn, makes me think that maybe you are getting tired of my whiny-ness. Of course you are. Or you will. I mean, why not, right? Anyone would get fucking tired of that. And just last week we had that whole discussion. I freaked out, I was so desperate, and you did everything you could to reassure me, but how do I really know what you were thinking? How do I know if internally you weren’t groaning and asking yourself “why me?!, why did I have to get involved with this psycho?” No, there’s no way of knowing. And that makes it even worse. Uncertainty for me, is hell. It gives my mind fuel to go to town and get insane and just fuck everything up.
We kept going with that para, we finally finished it, although it felt like being in labor for 37 hours straight, and I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again for a while. But how can I tell you that now para’ing makes me even more anxious than not doing it at all? I do like it, and I love writing with you, just like you said, but when it comes to 1 week after we started it, and our responses are just up in the air, like not really following a direction, and the para isn’t anywhere near being done, I get so anxious. And I don’t handle anxiety very well. And then, things like last week’s Monday happen. You were so understanding and sweet, which only makes me feel worse in the end. Because I feel like a bitch friend who only demands and takes and nags and doesn’t give anything in return. The next day, when we finally finished the para, hallellujah, you started gushing about my writing, and I couldn’t help but think if maybe that was what you thought I wanted to hear. Like I needed it, or something. So I felt super guilty. Specially because I’m not anything special, and my writing sucks. I have some slips and grammar mistakes that make the shudder when I read back.
So, yes. I’m jealous. I hate the idea of sharing you with anyone else. It hadn’t happened to me for a while, and I thought I had it under control. In fact, I hadn’t been this jealous in a couple of years. But I am now. I’m jealous of sharing you with other players in your RP, with the RP itself, with your other blog. And if I was closer to you, I’d probably be jealous of sharing you with your RL friends, too. although I am sometimes. I am not proud of how petty and childish I can be, but I can’t help it. I get possessive as fuck, and like I said, it hadn’t happened to me in a while.
I wish we could skype every once in a while, I wish I could take more pics and videos of myself, and send them to you. I wish we were even more connected. Cause no matter what you say now, I still feel like it could all end tomorrow. All it takes is for you to stop answering my messages, stop talking to me. And that’s it, you’ll be out of my life and it’ll be like you never were there in the first place.
I’m terrified of that happening.