There is No Spoon

“We’re stuck at the kissing stage.”

“Ever think she could be waiting for you to set the pace?”

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit.

Oh wow.

Christ, have I been so deep in my own mess that I didn’t see that?

Yup. Stuck deep like dick in a vacuum.

Recognizing the problem is the first step in curing it.

When I care, I worry; when I worry, I panic; when I panic, I get anxiety; when I get anxiety…

Clearing my head has become both a job in itself and something that comes easier and easier.

I had planned a post, anxiety-filled, short, on the date, but the date went as well as I let it. I deleted the post because it is that kind of thing, focusing on it, that makes me obsess about what I did wrong. I thought writing about it would help. Its has, just not in the way I thought. It has exposed my psyche, my obsessive-compulsive thoughts on my failings, and brought them to light. With the help of friends and my comrades in the sphere, I have realized what my problem has been.

Me.

I am trying to bend the spoon. I am ripping my hair out trying to bend the spoon. I am ruining my life for the spoon.

But there is no spoon. Just me.

 

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One response to “There is No Spoon

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