I am bloody scared right now. I am not exactly sure I have a reason, just a number of possible hints. I hate this. I don’t want to feel this way, and I bloody well don’t want any hints to support this feeling.

You see, the problem is the following: If I do muster the courage to ask, one of two things will happen. Either I’m told I’m wrong (which is a lie) or I’ll be told I’m wrong (which is the truth). There is no way for me to tell the difference. In one case guilt will be the driving factor, in the other it’s innocence.

And I guess all of you would agree, that whenever there is doubt about something being potentially devastating to you (physically or psychologically) most humans would err on the side of it being harmful, as opposed to benign. That’s self-preservation … at least in my book. It’s better to be emotionally prepared, right?

Ultimately this leaves me with an unsolvable problem. One that is goig to nag and wear on me. One that I have absolutely no way of resolving. Except possibly trust, which is undermined by the evidence and facts I have at hand.

Unfortunately I am incapable of unconditionally and blindly trusting anyone. I do place a great deal of (possibly) unfounded trust in people (read: strangers), but it’s neither of the aforementioned. The closer you get to someone, the more you are vulnerable.

I fucking hate feeling this way. This is one of the times, I’d love to have some medical condition of not being able to have amotions, or memory.

Whatever … I’ll go to bed now, unable to sleep, because I’m mulling this over. Great way to enter X-Mas Eve.