GUTS

I have always had obnoxiously opinionated instincts.

I am unsure whether this is because of the severity of my own moral code or simply something God so graced me with, but they are there. They are loud. They are not to be ignored.

Except I HAVE ignored them. My gut screamed at me when I first met Man Friend, told me that he was only paying attention to me because I was a new conquest, that the only reason he was so ready and willing to walk the drunk girl (ahem, that would be me) up the hill to the bathroom was so he could kiss me (okay, yeah, that one might not have been too terribly off). Eventually, in a blurry haze, we exchanged numbers and he made hugely flowering and sweeping promises to come down and visit. And then I left.

I honestly thought that would be the last time I ever heard from him again.

Except it wasn't. The weekend after I got back from Canada, he drove all the way down here to hang (make) out. With me. Because he LIKED me. And that was just the first of a million times he proved my gut wrong.

It wasn't a week later that I found out he'd finally gotten the phone number of a girl he'd been vaguely chasing for a while before he met me. He threw it out.

Once, maybe a month into us dating, I got up the courage to tell him my most humiliating secret, a secret that when I think about telling anyone else makes my stomach CHURN. IN. H-O-R-R-O-R. He looked at my red, puffy, guilt-ridden face and he told me none of it mattered. He loved me anyway.

So, why am I telling you all this?

Because, right or wrong, I've lost my gut instinct.

Tonight was the first night all week I finally got the chance to be alone with myself without all the distractions I face throughout the day. Tonight I asked myself a lot of very hard questions about how I truely, god-honestly feel about this situation.

And I don't know the answers. Nothing. Nip. Nada. Not even a little tingle in one direction or another.

I don't know how I feel about that.

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ADDENDUM: Oh, son of a bitch. No. No. I did not mean that I-don't-know-how-I-feel-about-that shit ironically. You've got to be kidding me. God, sometimes I'm a real asshole.