So, I’m Beatrice. What Now?

Two years. I have to wait two more years before I can get attached to anyone. Maybe that’s not how real life works, but that’s the kind of self enforced structure that I’m used to. It worked for me in high school, and it was working for me in college. I’m in the home stretch. I have my senior year in college, and then one year of work before grad school. No guy is supposed to come along until I’m at least in grad school. It was going so well. But now, I’m not sure.

No, it’s not even as simple as not being sure. I’ve never liked wishy-washy girls that strung guys along (or vise versa). I think a part of me is sure that I like this guy. That just makes everything worse. I’m doing my best to completely sabotage any potential for a relationship, but I can’t just burn the bridge. ME, not being able to burn a bridge. I’m practically a professional relationship arsonist, and that’s just with people in general. I’ve never gotten this close to a guy before. It freaks me out to write about it, because writing it down like this, in simple terms, means that I can’t ignore it anymore. I have to deal with it.

But you know, denial works too.


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