I hate the way my brain works sometimes. I hate the way it hinders me from life experiences. I hate how it denies me proper relationships because I have this wicked social anxiety. I hate the way I feel if I accidentally make it awkward. I hate the way that awkwardness seems to push away others. I wish I were different. I wish the traumas of the past weren't there. I wish I just wasn't so...afraid. I wish I was capable of love or being loved. I really liked him, you know? Like,
really liked him. He was soft in the ways he needed to be. He was kind in every single way. He took his time with me, and when I set that boundary, he did it without question.
Right person, wrong time. He's working on his masters at MIT, and although I do agree that comes first and foremost, it just still sucks.