of course.

Everything is so perfect, yet I feel the need to be a neurotic freak and worry all the time.  This is the one time when I am supposed to NOT worry.  And yet here I am, so goddamn worried.
I am not good enough.  If I could accept that I am good enough, I wouldn't worry.  I am good enough.  I don't believe that.
You are.  You are way more than good enough.  You are more than I deserve.  That's why I worry.  It doesn't feel real.  It's too nice for my life.  Nice things do not exist in my life.   I don't believe it.  I can't believe it, so I worry.

I don't know how this will work, but it has to.  I don't want to I think that if I see that it works, over time, I will worry less.  The tension will ease and the chaos that is current constant for my mind will drift away.  Of course the only perfect thing in my life would be so fucked up.  And the sick thing is that it really isn't fucked up at all.  It's all in my mind.
I wish I could just talk to you forever.  Then I would know everything is okay.



I am so crazy.  Crazy people don't deserve things this lovely.