These Damn Voices In and Out of My Head

It’s been almost two weeks since I started seeing Derek. And it wasn’t until today that I started having doubts. And for no good reason. Everything is exactly the way it has been every single day that I’ve seen him or talked to him: heavenly. But that damn voice in the back of my head is always there telling me to be careful and telling me to be skeptical and telling me that he can’t possibly be for real because who says the wonderful things that he says? And more importantly, who says them to me?

And I keep telling that stupid little voice to shut up, but today has not been a day where she has listened. Luckily it was busy at work, especially in the bathroom. First, some idiot flushed a maxi pad down the toilet. Never in my life, have I ever given that a thought and I’ve had a period for at least 25 years. I mean, seriously, at what point do you think to yourself that it would be a good idea at all to wrap a blood soaked pad up in toilet paper and drop it in the toilet and wish for the best? The most irritating part was that there was a garbage can directly in front of the toilet. They could have played a little ball and shot it in the “basket.” They could have held it in their hand and then thrown it away civilly when they were finished. Hell, they could have wrapped it up and left it on the floor for all I care. I’d rather put on a glove to throw it away than to put on an elbow length glove because I had to literally put my whole hand in the bowl and into the drain part to pull out a full sized bloody pad. At no point in the day did I plan for that. But who would?

After the toilet murder scene incident, some little kid decided that even though he was standing in the bathroom that the toilet was too far away and decided to just piss right there in the middle of the bathroom floor. I know it was him because he was wreaking havoc all through the store. I used to like kids. There are some that I still like, but when I see kids like this I want to put him and his guardian in a time out or a headlock or a deep freezer. It really depends on my mood.

But being busy distracted me from myself for most of the night. But when I wasn’t busy being distracted by overflowing toilets and misbehaving toddlers my mind just kept wandering to all the things that could go wrong with this whole Prince Charming situation. I don’t know how many scenarios went through my head that pointed in the comfortable direction of “RUN FOR YOUR LIFE.” And I wanted to. I wanted to ignore his texts. I wanted to blow him off when he offered to pick me up from work so I didn’t have to walk in the rain. But then I had to remind myself that this is the same guy who came in to where I work every Sunday for months and bought something he didn’t even need just so he could talk to me for a few minutes and get to know me. This is the same guy who makes me school girl giddy just being around him for five minutes. This is the same guy who sings to me and rubs my hair and gives me massages because I work hard and deserve to be pampered. And I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me.

And I was feeling a small piece of guilt or fear or something about the guys who have been a revolving door in my life over the past few years. I was thinking about when I tell them that I am officially off the market, not that anything is official just yet, but it certainly feels official even if no words have been spoken and I’ve not had the slightest urge to entertain any of them. Then immediately following those feelings of guilt or fear or whatever it is, I’m fuelled by anger both at myself and at all of them. Myself because I don’t know why I feel guilty and it pisses me off that I can be so sensitive and at them because now they want to give me an attitude when I am not available at their convenience or for their pleasure and they want to act like their feelings are hurt and say things like “if I knew that’s what you wanted.” Really? One year, two years, three years and you couldn’t figure out what I wanted? And the ones who did, couldn’t care any less about it because it was only what they wanted that mattered. Obviously, I wanted it at the time too so I’m not placing blame, but if “it is what it is” then I just don’t understand why people are getting so sensitive. It would seem like that at least, in some way, we would have forged some sort of friendship over the years that would allow you to be happy for me when I found my happiness, but I guess that’s not always human nature. I haven’t quite figured it out yet, but as I was laying next to him tonight feeling his hands in my hair, I realized that none of it matters and overthinking it is just a waste of my time.

I’m sure I will go back and forth a hundred more times, but for tonight, I will go back to his arms and in his words, I will “expect the best and prepare for the worst.”

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