The reason I started this blog was to give me a place to vent. Somewhere where I could commit my thoughts to something a bit less volatile than my own mind. As a part of this some of this would be dealing with my past. While this hasn't happened quite as I planned, it's getting there.
One of the posts was to be about my one attempt at romance. I knew going into it that it would be tough. So far I've written about two paragraphs, and that was more than a month ago. Now, normally I'm not all that communicative, but this is a bit extreme.
One part of the delay is that I have a metaphorical deal with pain. I avoid the things that cause it, and it leaves me alone. I know, pretty much everyone does this, but an explicit statement thereof makes things more significant. At least to my point of view. So, when I start to think about the topic, it pushes the limits of this deal.
Then there's the fact that it's a private matter. I've only ever told one member of my family about this, and that was limited to the fact that there was a girl I'm interested in. I don't think there's a single person who knows both sides of the situation. I know I don't.
Why does this sort of thing have to be so tricky? It's a pretty fundamental type of thing. One could almost go so far as to say that it's the basis for human culture. Am I talking about romance or communication?
I'm going to give the post another go later this evening. Perhaps I should have a few drinks beforehand. People say alcohol makes you freer with your words, but I've never found that to be the case. Mainly I get tired, and laugh too much at things.
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