Control

I am not a big risk-taker. I like plans and outlines. I constantly make lists and feel such a rush when I can cross items off of them. In pen, permanently.

I don't jump, just because. Not even if everyone else was doing it. I would have to research the ground/water/rocks/area that I would be landing on first.

I crave control. It is my drug of choice, the only one I've ever tried as any other mind-altering substance frightens me. It could loosen me up too much, cause me to lose my death-grip on reality that keeps me feeling somewhat sane and in, well, control.

I am stepping into something right now that goes against all of my best judgements. I am, once again, adding more and more and more justifications to a preconceived notion that I know some already believe about me. Part of me knows I should say no. Part of me likes the power that comes along with it. The tiny thrill, the little hairs that stand up along the back of my neck, the secret smile. This is what scares me about myself sometimes.

I don't seem to mind fucking with someone else, as long as I am still the one holding all of the control.