be my faraway love won’t you?

I have too much stuff. I&#146m thinking about doing something drastic and getting rid of it all, starting from scratch. I&#146ve never done anything like that before, but I think it would be interesting. It will probably not happen until I move to another country, which can&#146t be until I finish emerson, which should be sooner rather than later, if all goes as planned. But still, I&#146m thinking about it. Who really needs all this crap anyway? It&#146s just stuff. It&#146s only important and sentimental if I make it important and sentimental. I&#146m tired of making everything important and sentimental.

I have come to realize something about myself. I think. Maybe. It seems that I am much better off alone. I mean, it just seems that I be and do much better when I&#146m away from people I know and love. And especially away from my family.

When I have faraway love.

When I&#146m close (in proximity) to them, I eat too much, I complain too much, I watch too much TV, I get extra lazy, I am less creative, I am crankier, love myself less and hate everyone else more, I feel less hopeful and more cynical. When I&#146m away from love, when I&#146m off somewhere doing my thing, I am happier, healthier, funnier, smarter, snappier, sweeter, and with the perfect amount of cynicism.

If I&#146m in a relationship or living in Tucson, I find it very hard to break out of that protective coating that I had wrapped around myself for so long. I dropped it easily enough in Boston, when no one knew me and I was just some girl named Christa living in Boston. But then I made real friends in good old beantown and I met Gordon and suddenly I wasn&#146t alone anymore. I had nearby love. And slowly things began to degrade and I started becoming that christa that I do not want to be.

Of course, the real question now is who am I supposed to be? Is that dampened girl the real christa? or is the real christa continually being hidden by the over-christa in situations of nearby love? And what is it with love that makes me go so crazy?

I am using a lot of stupid terms here: faraway and nearby love, real christa (vs some sort of fake christa?), dampened girl, beantown, over-christa. Who really cares though. It&#146s my freaking site.

Here is what I think I need to do: move me and Ryland to someplace where it&#146s just me and Ryland. I love my friends and my family very very much. Without them, I&#146d be nowhere, with nothing. They support me when I stumble, which is quite a bit. But the great thing about them, but that gets me in trouble? They support me even when I&#146m not stumbling. That isn&#146t their fault, it&#146s mine. Because for me, when someone is there for me to lean against, guess what? I&#146m gonna lean. Even when I&#146m walking just fine on my own two little feet. Here&#146s the thing I discovered though, most recently in Boston: when I start to stumble and someone isn&#146t there, I&#146ll fall. And once I&#146ve fallen, I&#146ll look around and say &#147hmm. No one&#146s there. What to do, what to do.&#148 and then I&#146ll get up and shake myself off and go on about my business.

When I have nearby love, it&#146s nearly impossible for me to get up, shake myself off and go on about my business. When I have nearby love, I get complacent.

Although, and this is something I was discussing earlier with a friend, fear is the one thing that makes people complacent.

Hmm. So maybe the issue here is my fear of love. Which I know is totally lame and sooo 1990s, but maybe that&#146s why I get all funky in situations which require the use of my love muscle.

hahahah, my love muscle. that is so dirty.

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