Men are like blenders--Reg uses em-dashes and semicolons much too frequently and sometimes incorrectly

I never claimed I acted maturely.

This is one of those times when I definitely shouldn't claim I am.

(I think this is where I share something immature.)

"Men are like blenders. You need one...but you're not sure why."--My coffee insulator thing.

I'm terrible at interpersonal relationships. Sure, I could blame it all on being an only child, protective parents, social inhibitions, etc. but the ugly truth is that I just don't like people.

When I write "people," I mean people I haven't met. I dislike the effort it takes to get past my perpetual attitude of "I don't like them." This may be selfish--stereotypical even---and I understand this. A favorite theory of mine is that if a person understands the consequences of their actions or attitudes, the person must accept responsibility for the actions or attitudes. Therefore I am working on changing this.

I have recently entered into a bizarre interpersonal relationship with a man. It is the most puzzling thing I've ever encountered.

I'm unsure of nearly everything I do. When he doesn't respond to my texts, I don't respond to his in a sort of juvenile retaliation. When he acts too sentimental, I act aloof. When I act sentimental and he acts aloof, I'm angry (hypocrisy, I know.)  When I think about how he doesn't read my blog or that he didn't ask when my birthday was, I taunt him with sarcasm and think of how it would be so easy--so very easy, here in North Carolina--to never speak to him again. I find some consolation in the fact that maybe I could leave him wondering as I seem fated to. I should work on changing this dark piece of me as well; how could I be console myself with the thought of possibly hurting someone as they've hurt me?

I have so many misgivings, so much hypocrisy, so many feelings to sort and ponder. Chiefly, I must solve this: I told him I trust him--yet I don't tell him any of this, for fear of losing him.

A puzzled butterfly,
Reg