I hate my friends. On one side, I am the victim. I am being flirted and toyed with by someone who knows what strings to pull. He puts out just enough information to make me wonder about his motives. He knows that I am on the hook and doesn’t want me off of it, because I am giving him something that he needs but is afraid to admit. On the other side, I am the villain. I have confused my physical attraction to him and our friendship for being the real deal … love. He has no clue how to deal with my moods. He is aware that anything he might do could set me off. He values my friendship and doesn’t want to lose it, but has no clue how to proceed.

This is why I don’t want to go out tonight. To put myself near him. To be in the center of this group of people who think they know the answer to my problem. To put on the act of being social when all I want to do is crawl into bed and ignore the world for just a little while longer. I wish I knew what to do to make it right, but I fear there is no answer. No answer at all.