Romantic Friends

I’ve discovered a truth about myself. I don’t have many people that I would call close friends and I’ll tell you why. Most the time the friends I end up making end up being women. This can be a problem because sooner or later I somehow end up being romantically involved with one of the girls in a circle of friends. I don’t mean to do these things intentionally, or maybe I do and I just don’t recognize it. But the outcome almost always seems to come out the same.

I used to think that drama used to gravitate towards me, but I’m pretty sure that I end up creating a lot of that drama myself. Right now I’m in a situation that I didn’t know I had created which fits the prior criteria. All that comes to me is fear and pain. I don’t want to lose my new found friends.

So easily bruised are my feelings. I take everything way too personal. I tend to bludgeon myself into thinking that all problems originate from my own actions. But that’s only half right.

Will the inadequacies never cease? Will I feel that I am destined to be alone and must learn how to be content by myself? No one really likes to be alone. At least that’s what I believe.

Anxiety grows, breeds doubt into my bosom. Desire grows. Not desire for conquest or power or recognition, but for a hole, a hiding place, a safe haven. I want to experience life and the world, but such comes not without pain… I still remain soft and vunerable. I strive to ignore the pain and strive for my ideal face: happiness, kindness, genuine care, light heartedness.

I wish I knew all right choices that must be made… if this be so no one would learn.

Why must scar after scar be newly created or made fresh again and again? Why can’t I go throughout my existence without my offending, annoying, or hurting anyone? I always mean well. I always want the best for those around me. Why must I fail?

I have had an escape for so long that I don’t know how to deal with mistakes or problems. All I used to do was ignore it and hope for the best. Usually in these cases things would begin to fester in my soul and make me into something that I do not wish to be.

How can a person bear such things? I know that there are people who do every day, but is it from experience, or is it a trait one is born with? Is it learned or only an unavailable item to those who feel too weak?

All of these things burns in my chest like a white hot blade in my sternum.

Where can I turn for peace?