The Big Fat Fucking Mess

Now I've gone and done it. Fucked it all up.

I can't get into all of the details. I'm still spinning and sick with the dizziness. Already uncomfortably brewing with too much coffee on an empty stomach before I got the message from C.F.

The message.

C.F. and I had been intimately chatting and sending photos for the last six weeks. And we had finally met. It was electric. Pure. True. And right away, I was afraid. Afraid for all of the cliche reasons... afraid to be in love, broken-hearted. But also afraid of feeling something that most likely would have to end... and I didn't want to ever have to let it go... so I almost didn't let myself begin to feel it.

But I did. And I do.

And now... he's afraid. Justifiably afraid of the consequences of our feelings. Of us meeting again. Of us being more than what we can handle... because he's involved with someone else. And if he holds on to me... he inevitably has to let go of her and his life. It's a mess. A fucking mess. And I want to talk to him about it so badly, but he's afraid that we can't meet. We were supposed to meet tomorrow.

I can't make sense right now. Not of this. Not to explain it. Can't make sense of what I feel... and I can't try... because our relationship was a secret. So I am stuck here... with this bubbling, explosive mess... trapped inside my sickened stomach. Alone.

And to further scatter the wreck and confusion that is me... Mr. Irishman called right after I got the news, and asked me if I was okay. I just said no and that I couldn't talk about it right now. So... I have to add to the mess... and not tell him the truth. Not tell him that I'm basically almost in love with someone I can't be with, but that I love him too. God. Typing that just completely paralyzed me. It doesn't seem possible. How could that be? How could something so entirely fucked up even possibly happen? And why am I so torn with convincing myself that it was stupid to begin with, and feeling like the honest reality is that we can't help who we love, or why we love them. And damn't... we can't isolate the tangled web of the world that sometimes keeps us away from where we want to be... and who we want to greet us when we get there.

Fuck.