I'm selfish. I'm conceited. I'm full of myself. I'm moody. I'm demanding. I'm overbearing. I'm obnoxious.
I know all of these things about myself. I know them. I have made my peace with them and those that love and care about me have had to make their peace with those things too.
But that isn't all that I am.
You see, I am other things too.
I'm caring. I'm devoted. I'm wildly defensive. I'm loyal. I'm loving. There's nothing that I wouldn't do for the people that I love. I have something television related to say about everything. You know, I have a high tolerance for hurt. While I used to wear my heart on my sleeve, I've started going sleeveless and keeping my heart trapped under my ribs where it is safe. I mean, stuff gets through the cracks and I feel it, but the thing about keeping my heart hidden under the ribs is that I can control what gets out. When you wear it on your sleeve, anyone can take anything from you.
So I keep it locked underneath a web of bone and tissue, away from being affected by caring too much.
But the hurt found a way in.
And I'm not quite sure what to do now.
I keep asking myself what Rory would do or how she would get Lorilee to help her out, but I can't even think about what she would say to do. Rory would say that she isn't going to let anyone in anymore and then Logan would come in and it would all be thrown out the window. I'm tired of being on the carousel and I'm tired of the arrows that seem to hit me just between the ribs.
I'm sorry this is sad and I'm sorry it's not really pleasant, but I am trying to bumble my way through life's crazy labyrinth, barely knowing left from right and right from wrong. You know, the Chaperone has the right idea. The best that we can do is hope a bluebird will sing our song, as we stumble along. I am stumbling along right now, waiting for that bluebird.