Mature content finally handled maturely (long!) [PG-13]

It's been an emotional vacation for me. I am so glad that we got so much time this year, because I really needed all of it.

By the end of the semester, I felt not only physical exaustion, but emotionally disconnected, spiritually malnurished, and socially imbicilic. So much time went into getting projects done for my numerous studio classes, that I had very little time to just hang out. Alicia... I know she wasn't being demanding... that she just missed spending time with her boyfriend... But if I was going to do well with school, I couldn't measure up to what she wanted. Or what anyone else wanted. I'm constantly turning down invitations to hang out, watch movies, or the infamous 1am Citgo run (even though it changed its name and another gas station took over, we still know it as Citgo). And yet I'm still behind on sleep and feeling rushed to get things done, feeling like I should regret what little social interaction I had. I guess it'd been building all semester... if not longer.
What finally broke me was after finally pushing my way through a week of final projects and returning home.. I was still turning down invitations and still asking Alicia to be patient with me so that I could spend a few days of ME time to try and recover my strength. Felt like no one would understand because everyone else was ready to party, so shouldn't I. Why does everyone expect so much from me? .... I guess that's where a lot of the previous entry came from. But with all that going through my exhausted mind, I just shut down... let my GameCube absorb me.. And I think it helped in its own way. Alowed me to recover physically and mentaly to a point were I was strong enough to deal with emotions.

I started slowly, adding one messanger program at a time, started talking to people again. Started turning my phone on again. Started accepting who I really am. Accepting that I'll always be a little behind. Accepting that I can't maintain a serious dating relationship while I'm still getting through school (I've lost faith in the dating system anyway, but that's a can of worms for another blog).

Durring this last week, I've been reconnecting to message boards and blogs that I'd neglected, and in the process stumbled across some random 13 year old girl's blog that I was able to identify with. And I recognized a part of myself in a friend she was talking about. It had sounded like this friend was affraid to confront a couple other friends, or was affriad they wouldn't listen... or something. It struck me as.. "No! Don't be affraid to share your beliefs and/or opinions! You don't want to be like me...." I don't think I heard myslef...
But the seed was planted. It sounds like an old cliche, but "better to be rejected for who you are, than accepted for who you aren't." That phrase just stuck in my head, sloooowly sinking in.

As I'm following her blog, she talks about being frustrated with being 'abnormal.' Anyone who knows me, knows how deep a chord that struck. So as I'm typing encouragement, freak to freak, I start hearing my own words again and realise that it's not too late for me to follow my own advice.
I don't care anymore if I can't go to every play/concert/whatever. I don't care if some people give me a hard time for being a 23 year old, male fan of the Powerpuff Girls. It doesn't matter if anyone understands my seemingly greater need for ME time if I don't actually give it to myself (though I've been practicing that one for a few months now)

So in the continuing spirit of being true to myself, I now bring you the following sleepless writings from last night:

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still having trouble getting to bed on time... actually got here at a much more reasonable hour, but now that I'm here, I'm not feeling tired anymore... can't stand it...

But as long as I'm here, I may as well try again to get something off my chest... or maybe I should say out of my chest... It's been buried deep in my heart for some time now.

A couple years ago I'd earned the title of 'Modesty Nazi' from my girlfriend back then. At first it felt pretty good standing against tight shirts and midriffs and such, a champion of modesty. ... right.. At first, she'd been pretty understanding and even willing to change or modify what she was wearing..
I soon tried to share this opinion with a few other female friends, but it was frequently met with anger or frustration. After a while my girlfriend began to tire of it as well (I'll detail why later). I seem to remember the final straw coming during a week of working as stage crew during Sonshine Music Festival when I'd been bold enough to make a comment to one of the members of Superchick. She seemed to take the comment pretty well, but everyone else just seemed fed up with my ideals when they heard what I'd done...

After that I just gave up and stuffed the message, nobody wanted to hear what I'd had to say. I'd tried to be tactful, and quit often failed. So I just gave up.

Except... except that I'd never been bold enough to really talk about why I felt so strongly about it... because that means admitting..
Every low neckline... every tight pair of jeans... every shirt that doesn't quite connect with the garments on the lower half... I know these things sound like only mere scraps of indecency, it's enough to feed and nourish a part of me that I don't want to be fed or encouraged in any way. Not until I have me a wife. I have to admit that I have given in to the pervert within me, and that I know what it wants. Sure, it ultimately wants a whole lot more, but these scraps are enough to get it started... and these scraps keep it alive.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not trying to put all the blame on women. So long as it's still fighting to get out, I've got to be the one to keep it chained up. (though I've gotten pretty mad at the culture around me for bringing it to life so early and for keeping it so well fed, especially television) ...And there is some comfort in knowing that all men deal with this to some degree.
What the Modesty Nazi was really about was me looking for help without wanting to admit I needed it. It was so much easier to say that I simply didn't like the tight/low shirt than to say that I really did like it in a way I wasn't comfortable with. I had gotten so caught up in this, it was later brought to my attention, I was so worked up about how well 'protected' she was from my dark side, that I hardly ever told her how pretty she was. (and she was/still is, but we're just friends again) My fear of being too attracted physically, I neglected to even realize that I was only telling her what I didn't want to see... afraid to admit that darker part that did want to see...

and that fear eventually drove the Modesty Nazi underground, where he's remained hidden to this very day. I

I am truly sorry that I've kept this inside so long. I don't want my feminine friends to be targets of lust, or to feel guilty as a stumbling point to men in their lives.
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Perhaps i should note that I do recognize how dificult it is to find truly modest clothing for sale these days... If there's anything else I haven't considered I'm sure someone will let me know.
If anyone managed to make it this far, please... please leave a comment. I want to know who reads all this, and especially how today's post is recieved. Build me up, tear me down, I don't care. I wan't to know what you think!