That's the way my love is

I can't say for sure that I'm a better person than I was a year ago, but I'm certainly no worse. I've been speaking and acting without the use of what little censorship I had. It's not conscious; the words and the thoughts and the motions wriggle their way around the filter in my brain (best compared to a redneck screendoor - tattered, burnt, torn, with the occassional bullet hole searing right through) without any detection, and before long I am caught looking back in awe at this great and terrible power of mine. I've destroyed egos, defined boundaries, brought my loved ones closer, and breathed cyanide into the veins of my worst enemies.

To be honest, I don't regret any of it. I've hurt some people, yes, but they more than deserved it. And for every negative thing I've done, I've added another friend to a progressively stronger foundation. I've forgotten to apologize for things I'm not sorry for, and I've forgotten to hide my emotions from those I've been dying to share with. It's my original personality, doubled (perhaps even tripled). I'm an emotional landmine.

Anyway, today Tavis finally put the peices together and realized what all the drama in the last month has been about. I chose a clumsy moment to nag Adam over his obsession with me (the boy loves me, he just doesn't know it yet), and Adam, whose response time has slimmed down considerably since I started joshing him, retorted with some Nathan-related comment. Tavis' grin collapsed on itself, his eyes stretched open. I wonder if I'll get a chance to see each of my friends give me that look at least once in their lives. "What?"

Adam's infamous drunken-looking sneer appears. He's happy with this result. "She's, like, in love with him."

This is shrugged off by both parties. Tavis is serious here. "You like him?"

I don't remember my exact response, if I responded at all, but after a couple years of friendship with me, he's able to read me quite easily. He exploded that he couldn't believe this, that Nathan had it in his head that he'd gotten rejected by me, that he'd told Tavis I was the only girl in our class he'd even consider dating, et cetera, et cetera, until I broke in with "Don't tell him."

Around here he probably grinned at me again, both of us knowing full-well that he would. "Why not? I can't not tell him, this is too great" etc. etc.

This argument sprawled out over the remainder of our afternoon. Tavis would steal a minute to flash that "I know something" smile at me, and I'd plead with him. "I don't want this to be third-grade. I don't want everyone involved." et cetera. He was drawn into various situations where he came dangerously close to voicing the secret to the rest of the world, where he would physically clamp his hands over his mouth and glance over at me for help. It was intolerable, and I knew he couldn't last the day without disspelling it to someone. Might as well have the news delivered straight to the second party, I reasoned, and gave in: "fine, tell him, but don't make a big deal about it, and don't do it now."

And just like that I washed my hands of it. Whatever happens, happens, and if I end up losing one friend and gaining nothing in the way of a boyfriend, I'll blame Tavis for the whole thing. Easy enough, yes?

As a side note, Evan has been persuing me over a second (okay, third) chance at a relationship. I find this more amusing than dangerous/complicated/touchy/problematic. What is it about me that is suddenly desirable, that for so many years was left unpersued and unwanted? What has shifted in the fabric of the universe and made me such an attractive prospect? Do I even possess whatever it is that makes it possible for a girl to be a girlfriend? It's laughable that I'm even worrying over things like this. It's late, I'm exhausted, I haven't touched my homework, and the kitchen table is on a 45 degree angle that, to me, is strangely symbolic of the 180 my life has made.