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It always comes out wrong when when you're hiding under a bush. Welcome to my life. I'm blunt about everything, but how I feel about men. All of a sudden I don't know how to explain my feelings. So I give parts and pieces and it worries them. I drop my worries on them. The only way for this to one day work is for them to like me, and I like them equally back without any red flags - that would be great.

So let me tear down the impossible right here at the verge of Valentines Day. Am I trying to make myself alone? I am - by working until 8PM that night. I'll work away the idea of anything red and touchy. Heaven forbid I let myself feel. I'll hurt you. Don't you know, I'll hurt you.

Will some stories end with silent complacency? Will some end apathetic and detached? Will others be full of surface chatter and silenced dreams? Are even the passioned people bound by canned desires. Hello debbie downer. We can fight for love. We can fight for focus. We can fight for choice, love and desire. We can ignore classifications and just love. But won't you hate me for loving so many people? I always said I would never be this way. Fine. Hypocrite. Even I understand the other side. Will I finally find my place with one? Why is everything always about boys.

Silence is the worst though. I swear it's the worst.

I want to know where people are at.

I want people to know where I am at.

Even when the words aren't perfect.