Batshit crazy? Count me in

I hate January.

All of the shiny, sparkly, twinkly things that accompany Christmas have been packed away. The old nine hour work day is back in full swing. It's cold and dreary and everyone is hunkering down for a while in an attempt to save money/lose weight/relax.

All in all, it's just a shitty month, at least around these parts. I kind of just want to crawl under my blanket and sleep until Spring.

Add to it that I am dealing with a good bout of The Crazy, and you can imagine just how badly I need a pick me up.

The worst part of it? I'm making The Crazy pop up all on my own. MG#2 (I think I need to come up with a new name for him, that one sucks to type) and I, when he's not out of town, have spent a lot of time together. It's been great, it really has. It's new and exciting and gives me butterflies. When he's not in town, he calls and texts regularly to see how I am, or to tell me that he misses me. He's sweet, kind, affectionate, and honest. He's the one who is usually making plans, asking me to come over, grabbing for me in the middle of the night. He's the one making plans to train (together) for a run that takes place six months from now.

So, I ask you, WTF is my frigging problem? I'm obssessing over the weirdest little things, making up totally psycho sotries in my head.

He's not coming home til after the weekend? Logically, it's not a work trip as explained. He must be going to deal with the past and is trying to hide it from me.

He hasn't called all day? There's no way he could be that busy, he must be mad at me for something.

Blackberry e-mail in the middle of the night? There's NO way it could be an automated update from a sports site. It must be some girl who is trying to entice him out.

The things that whiz through my little pea brain are even amazing me. When they first flit into my mind, I can step back and tell myself "WHOA. The Crazy is coming. Gear down, there, big rig"
I can manage to do it for a few minutes, but inevitably, my thoughts trail back, all helter-skelter, to The Crazy and the insanity that it brings.

There is absolutely no logical reason for me to think ANY of these things. So says my brain.

My heart, however, has a completely different game plan. It does not want to have to throw up that coat of armour ever again. It doesn't want to be faced with the possibility of little pieces breaking off, tiny little shards that may never grow back, that are buried forever in the abyss of lost love. It doesn't want to have to wring itself out, lilke a wet dish rag, after days and days of big shiny alligator tears.

You see, this little heart of mine has opened itself up after a year of not letting anyone in. At first, it opened slowly and cautiously, like a new bud basking in the weak morning rays. Then, it was game on, sister. Only problem is, now that I've offered my heart to him, I'm scared shitless. I don't like the thought of losing him, after all we've been through the past few months and all of the emotions we've discovered. I just can't bear the thought of it right now.

Well, OBVIOUSLY, the best way to deal with that is to drive myself crazy imagining myself getting hurt a trazillion different ways, right? I mean, what else is a girl to do?

I was going somewhere deeper with this, and now I've gone and lost my train of thought...The Crazy? It's officially driven me crazy.

I need a drink.