rien ne pèse tant
que un secret.

There are times - more lately than before - that I wonder what I got myself into. Or what I let myself get into. I could have chosen to back off and stay off after... but I was intrigued, head over heels, and I liked it more than I let myself realize. I should have stopped once I found out the truth about it. I should have just... quit and said sayonara but... why didn't I? I admit it - its because I let myself hope and there are times when I catch myself thinking about the what-ifs. When I think about how concrete and impenetrable it seems from what I'm able to find out ... and yet sometimes those little mixed signals that tell me anything is possible are ringing and they get in my head and they fuck with me.

I let myself hope, that's the thing. There are times when I think it's possible and there are times I think about how pointless it is. It's done... and I wasn't there. I couldn't possibly have been there... it's so stupid. I'm so stupid. How is it possible to become so wretchedly jealous and infuriated with something I have no control over... and I never had? It is my decision, I know, but even then whenever I get wind of them, I see red.

I get so angry I see blood red and it kills me each time.

That's the stupid thing. I have no right to get pissed over something that's not mine even though it sometimes feels like it is. I have no right to get agonizingly jealous over something I never had ownership to. "Ownership" is being used loosely here... just to get across what's in my head.

I'm skirting around my own feelings because the reality of this situation is so stark I know I'll end up hurting myself just by acknowledging the impossibility and it'll just crush me... because that's how much of an idiot I am. I guess this is acknowledging it... but it doesn't make it any better.

Now, the smartest thing to do here is to tell myself, "Dearest Ria... I know its going to suck and you're going to be miserable for a long time and you're gonna miss it and you're going to want to go back and it's going to dig at you every single day and you're probably going to cry... but it'll be better in the long run because you'll save yourself and others the deception and the anger and the hurt you set yourself up for. It's better when you're the only one that is getting hurt if it means your sparing the others the same. It'll be confused and hurt and you might question if you're doing the right thing... you might be tempted to return and explain but you know you'll sound pathetic... so, don't even bother. This is the one choice you know you're tough enough to get through... you know that after a few months you'll be fine and it'll all be like a dream that left a scar but you've been through worse and you've healed so you know you can choose this."

That's the smart move.

The stupid move... and the one I'm most likely going to choose because of the stubborn idiot I am, will be  kind of like this: "Okay, you fully acknowledge the stupidity of what you're doing. You acknowledge the power you have to pull the plug and get it done but... you think you're tough enough to stand it all the way to the end when you know its gonna come crashing down on your head. You think you're tough enough to hold on to hope and you think you're strong enough when you finally realize it was all in vain and you're the one getting fucked... but you'll know it was by your own doing so you're going to keep the pretense that it's not that big of a deal even though you know it'll eat you from the inside anyway and soon enough, that shield - that toughness you built so well, that holds you up through everything you hope for - is going to crumble and you're going to become the person you swore to yourself you'd never be again."

There. I spit it out. Fuck.

For fuck's sake. I'm going to regret this, I know it.

And you know what I was thinking while I wrote all this? "You. Are. So. Fucking. Stupid, Ria. God. Damn."