This is kind of long and can get cheesy in some parts so please have patience… Most of my life I’ve been proud that I’m very independent; I’ve never really needed or wanted the help of anyone. Well, there have been times I have needed help from others, but I really hated asking for it, it makes me feel like I’m some kind of fucking leech. I’m ok knowing I could be happy spending my life in isolation. When times got bad for me I took comfort knowing that I can get through it alone. But it’s mainly how I was raised, I was alone most of my life but that never bothered me and the people I was around as a kid taught me by example that the world is a cold and cruel place and that in the end nobody can, or will help you. That ultimately, the only “support system” you really have is yourself, and if you can’t stand on your own two feet you’re worthless, because the world has no place for dead weight. You basically have to earn the air you breathe. Showing sadness or complaining about your life is strongly looked down on where I grew because we knew that things can and may get worse for you along the way and that your complaining is a really annoying noise to the others that are in the same situation. If you got hurt emotionally, mentally, or physically who cares? No one is going to come by and fix you, you move on and hope it goes away later. But about six months ago I met a guy, I knew him from a prep school I was in three years before, but I never really talked to him. I said hi, and we started talking. After about a week he told me he was gay, I told him I was ok with that because I am too. We became friends, but we weren’t dating. After about a month he asked if I would go out with him, I was reluctant to say yes, but for some reason I did anyway. After a while I found that I really like him, and that I actually want to be around him. I’m entirely comfortable talking to him about anything, and best of all he listens and understands, and he lets me know that my thoughts and emotions are valid and he has never told me how to live my fucking life (I am so tired of people doing that), but he lets me know that it’s my opinion and could be wrong like anyone else. I’m ok crying around him, I have my episodes of breaking down but I’ve always done that when I’m alone, but this is the first I’ve been able to do this around someone else without feeling disgusted and disappointed with myself. But the only problem with all of this is that it all disturbs me. I’m not used to trusting anyone like this. Half of me is saying that this is all wrong, that I’m embracing a petty sentiment that I’ve seen people ruin their own lives over, I feel like I’m getting weaker. The other half is telling me that this kind of life can be better than the one I was living. It’s like there are gears in my head turning the opposite directions causing them to break and leaving my head filled with broken machinery. I know anything good never lasts so I want to end our relationship on my own terms before something worse causes it to end, and I feel like shit for just thinking about it. I’m just having a hard time figuring out what’s really bothering me. It’s like the problem is right in my face, like it’s doing a little jig in front of me but I’m too high to notice anything. So, I don’t know what is causing all this confusion, but I do know that I feel like crap for being happy if that makes any sense. It seems being with Cody (the guy I’m seeing) has taken away the armor I used to wear like a favorite shirt. I feel… defenseless, if that’s the right word. I’m confused, this is the first time I haven’t been able to figure out how to deal with a situation that would seem so simple if presented to me a year ago. Any words of wisdom?