Possibility Happiness & My Love

Guys, I'm just really, really happy.  I have finally accepted the possibility that I might end up truly, truly happy.  And that makes me happy.  (Your thought: Three sentences in a row that end in "happy?"  Who the Hell's blog am I reading?!!)

Something pretty simple, yet amazing, happened to effect this change.  I had needed so badly to see what being my true self (while being in public with friends) is like.  I had the chance to see it!  I have found some incredible friends that know the things about me that have caused me so much misery, and they don't judge me for them... and they don't treat me any differently because of them... they just are fun.  If you haven't found that for yourself, trust me... it's out there, and it's incredible.  If you are among these few great people who have managed to just give me a taste of you being you while I was being ME... thanks!

(Hmm... I feel like I'm really rusty in writing right now.  Oh, well!  Deal with it, bitches!)

I'm also happy because I came out to a couple work friends, and I have at least a couple people there that can allow me to be me.  I'm very relieved to finally have that, because for forty hours each week, I felt like I needed to keep hiding like when I was completely in the closet.  I don't want back in that stupid closet.  It's dark in there and it smells like mothballs.  (By the way... WHAT THE HELL IS A MOTHBALL?)

Oh.  So in this analogy, mothballs are secrets, and moths are happiness?

So, I've been thinking a lot about the one last step to being "truly happy."  Finding him!  Mr. Truly Happy.  This is a troubling thing though, as I worry that he might have the same love-style that I do.  When I fall in serious like with someone, I get this like ache for them in my stomach, they occupy a spot reserved just for them and people like them in my brain like a penalty box in hockey, and some other part of my brain is hell-bent on destroying any sort of hope that might fill that box.  I have this weakling sort of love that is all-too anxious to destroy any entity to which my hopes of love are attached.  Does this all sound crazy?  Well, it feels like I'm crazy.  Love should be losing yourself in the hope, being totally annihilated if it doesn't work out, and being reborn into some other relationship... right?  Or is that crazy to want, too?  I think the point is that I don't really know love, because I always sabotage it's growth in me by simply telling myself that I'm not good enough.  That seems to always be all it takes.  What if my Mr. Truly Happy is the same way?  What if his anxiety keeps him from asking me out because he somehow has deluded himself into thinking he's not good enough for the likes of me?  What if I miss out on him because I don't take the early steps to shout at that moron and tell him he's all I've been dreaming of...?  

Say something if you're out there.  I'll do my best to remind you always how beautiful you really are, how you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and how we both need to strengthen our love-styles and recognize that we're both worth it... we deserve love and happiness.  Truly.