This is my big boogie-monster now about relationships: I don't like people who think I can/will make them happy. Because I can't. And they can't make me happy. But if it's a good relationship, then in addition to making their life harder and more complicated I can also make it better. I can make it easier for them to make themselves happy. And they can do the same for me, assuming the fact that my bad days that don't disappear in a cloud of rose-petals as soon as I see them doesn't scare them silly.

The problem with the not-at-least-bruised idealist is when I want a date I look for a partner. They look for an answer.

Hm. Food for thought. Just generally speaking.

But then, idealistic as I am, I think I'm more than just bruised at this point. Remember, walking open wound here. The important thing is that the wound is always fresh, never festering. Mom came up with that metaphor, and I love it so.