burning down the house

I'm starting to think that I'm not afraid of love as much as I am afraid of having to start all over again. If I really dig down to the subconscious rat's nest inside of me, I'm sure that's what it is, but I guess it's all the same. If I don't fall in love, there's less of a chance I'll have to start all over. I'm so protective of the little world I've built that the thought of uprooting it or handing over half of it makes me lightheaded, and not in a good 'let's drop acid and watch trippy Youtube for six hours' way. Like I keep saying, I guess it's just not time for any of those possibilities to look viable to me. Maybe in time.

In other news, I need my ass kicked. In a non-sexy way. Like a really, really hard ass-kicking.

In other, OTHER news, it's time for the armor to engage.

-Rae