tonight i was just typing away. being my merry old self when out popped a revelation, i didn’t intend to make. it’s one of those revelations that makes your throat ache and snot start immediately flowing from your nose. you know, the kind that leads to unending tears and a sobbing fit that leaves you jelly-legged, muzzy headed and exhausted. i am sure it’s good and will be nice and refreshing in the morning. but now my eyes are all red and swollen and my nose is still dripping. you know how sometimes those big crying bouts can be really cleansing and such? it’s been awhile since i’ve dug so deep into the well of self-pity. i mean i whine a lot, but generally i operate as a very happy-go-lucky girl. mostly because i can just avoid anything that’s bugging. you know, the whole. . . if i just ignore it, it will go away. which never ever works.

so i was writing away and stuff, talking about family and boys and what not. when out popped “the only men who have told me they loved me are my dad and max.” shocking, isn’t it? considering i am so damn lovable. but yeah, i’ve never heard the words, “i love you” from a man. i’ve been loved by men, that much i do know.and i realize i can say that with a good degree of certainty. which makes me feel a bit better.

but never been told i love you. which makes me feel like some giant, unlovable freak of nature. i mean what person on earth hasn’t been told at least once that someone loved them in a romantic way? well, i mean what person besides me? and it makes me feel like a total and complete monster. it also makes me feel like i am revealing entirely too much. but then i thought fuckit. what do i have to lose? someone isn’t gonna love me? someone is gonna think poorly of me? too god damn bad. because really, i blame myself more than anything for never having heard “i love you” from a non-related man. i keep myself locked away in a box. ironically, i do that for fear of getting hurt. but really it’s just as painful keeping yourself locked away. hiding from pain. you just invite a different kind of pain into your life. it’s self-inflicted and somehow i think that’s better. which is just lame beyond belief.

and i realize that probably none of this makes any sense, but i don’t really care. because i jsut want to get it out there. see it, read it and process it when i am in a better frame of mind. you see, i am getting so tired of being afraid. and i’ve begun work on a huge redesign of my life. jodi v. 3.0 is gonna pretty much rock. but i am sure many, many more tears will be shed until that’s good to go. but really, crying isn’t a bad thing.