I hate disappointing people that I care about. I can always see it coming from a mile away too. It is worse in person, when you can see their face. The earliest instance of this puts me in a car seat in Brooklyn sometime in the mid 80's. My brother and I are in the car waiting for my mother to go buy some cigarettes. It's an old Cadilac, the seats are an off color white leather, I think. I am probably 3, maybe 4 years old. My mother rushed out of the store and held up candy bars, they were twix. She looked so excited to give us this gift, and I remember telling her how I didn't like peanut butter, and for some reason if I think of the look on her face even today it almost brings me to tears. She just looked crushed? It doesn't seem like a big thing to be crushed about, and I highly doubt she has any recollection of this incident today, but I remember it. It almost(apparently?) traumatized me. At the time all she did was go back into the store and exchange it for one I liked better. I don't know why this haunts me like it does, and I may have even written about this here already. If not here, then it was probably in my livejournal.
I am so wracked by the very notion that I could be disappointing people in a way that is so big right now, that I can barely bring myself to do anything except for get caught up in the vices that make me forget about these things temporarily. And on top of that, I'm forming a relationship that is so incredibly important to me, and gives me so much more of a reason to stay here. I want to say I know I'm going to be fine. I feel incredible most of the time lately. However, the anxiety of what is going on aside from these new beginnings is crushing when it hits me.
Playlist: The Killers, Smodcast, Laundry, waiting for Friday night as patiently as I can