Choose Your Own Adventure; The Witches' Duel.

How is it even possible to think so much of a person in general... And I'm thinking of a girl I have only known for 3 days the whole time... And telling you I love you doesn't even feel strange.

Its words like these that can make a girl crazy. Or at the very least, they've made me Crazy, Capital C. I haven't wanted to talk at great length about it - anxiiiiettttyyyyyy - but the Dutchman arrives in 6 days. He will be here for about three weeks and we are going on two short mini-vacations. Together, in my room with a kitchen (and a Kat Moss) attached, we will spend the better part of three weeks together. OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. Kat is taking the news well; I, however, have become absolutely Bipolar over the whole situation.



Which Witch is Which?

Close your eyes and imagine my Good Witch & my Wicked Witch engaged in some sort of dramatic Hollywood Princess Bride style fencing duel - the lunging, the swinging, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. That is my brain these days. (Okay, that is my brain most days.) Yeah, my dueling witches are at it, big time: He's gonna see you're crazy! He's going to drive you crazy! (Swipe!) You will have a wonderful time! You're not crazy, you're amazing! (Swoosh!) No, you're crazy! See how crazy you are! (Jab!) He loves you, even with all your quirks! (Swish!)
(If you aren't sure what I am talking about, skim http://stylesaturnreturn.blogspot.com/2011/05/are-you-good-witch-or-are-you-bad-witch.html .)
I am very excited, don'tgetmewrong; my heart swells and sings when I think about him, talk to him, text with him. But in all honesty, I'm absolutely terrified. My Wicked Witch has been whispering... 'What if he gets here and he comes to realize that I am not, in fact, this amazing wonderful California Girl that he thinks he is in love with? What if he steps off that plane and I no longer have those feelings for him? What if after a couple days, we cannot stand eachother? What if he regrets wasting his vacation on me? What if he takes back all his wonderful words? And then my brain goes: What if my fear of this happening turns this into some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy where I sabotage his entire trip because I am afraid of it going poorly?'
Basically I am afraid that my fear of failing to live up to my best self will ultimately wreak havoc on his entire holiday here. Hey! I am nothing if not self aware. Argh.
But then again, I am also thankful for his rose colored glasses - I do think he will get here and only see what my Good Witch tells me is inside of me. I believe that he does love the true and wonderful Me; because she does exist and is deserving of such love. I believe he sees me for the good that I am. I am thankful for the fact that, if I wanted to, I could probably tell the Dutchman all of the above fears, & he would tell me I was mad, & that he loves me for Me. And he would be telling me the truth. (Ha! Knowing me, I probably will.)
I have to remind myself of what I said earlier,

I find this voice telling me that I only have one life, and to remember to live it fully. That this may be it - I have to at least see. That if we do not explore what this is, then I will regret it for the rest of my life.
He and I have discussed the possibility of this just being what it is - a crazy yet fluke connection between two strangers for weekend, or for a summer.

*That's right folks, I have to read my own blog to be reminded of such things sometimes.

The electricity between us the when we first met; that was no accident. The honest conversation between us since that weekend has been nothing but wonderful. So, why on Earth am I so afraid? Why do I struggle with the fear of being unlovable? Why do I sometimes doubt my own worthiness of love? I don't doubt others', I don't doubt his!  When I was with him before, I felt the same sense of possibility I felt with the Aussie but none of the insecurities (Am I smart enough? Well read/traveled/spoken enough? Pretty enough?) The rejection I felt from the Englishman (which I will detail later, when I feel like meditating on yay! rejection) is (obviously) nonexistent. Why, then, do I let that damn Wicked Witch coax me into some sort of hysterical self doubt? Sheissuchabitchbytheway.
His visit may be fantastic. It may be awful. It may be so-so. We won't know until we get there. I just have to remind myself it is an Adventure & that it is my Adventure. An explorer doesn't not get on the plane for fear of it crashing; the pilot doesn't board the plane with the assumption it will crash. And without them - metaphorically, duh - there would be no adventures. Part of being a grown up is living your own, personal Choose Your Own Adventure novel, I guess. So, to my Wicked Witch - I choose to give you the finger. (Turn to page 29!) Fuckyouverymuch. I choose to stop listening to you and allow this to be an unsabotaged by Saturn visit by my Dutchman. I mean, he's coming all this way...
In 6 days.
He will be here in 6 days.
Okay, 5 days and 22 hours.
5 days and 21.5 hours.
But who's counting?