I don't care. It is my fault anyway; for being so carried away when in the raptures of a Cheltenham tragedy being enacted in my life about a month and a half ago. And boring one too many people with the lastest temperamental inflictions of my life. These inflictions stem from those grandiose fancies that grab me now and then when life is insufferably dull. When one has a spoilt superego that needs pampering. Or when a situation occurs, which is then heavily indulged by my uneasy temperament (like the forementioned event).

Geez, even my vocabulary reeks too much like a Regency romance. Now I know I have been reading far too many G.Heyer's books.

So if you really understand me, you would know that once I actually purged it off my chest either through writing, constant whining or just solving it in my head, that is it.

It seems strange to people who do not know me well enough. That one is able to weep copious tears, mope in sullen sulks (I am doing a G.Heyer again!), and then do a complete volte face a couple of weeks later, disavowing (truthfully) all the heady emotions I felt, as "in the past" and best forgotten. Mood swings, quicksilver fancies. That is me in a nutshell.

This is also relevant to this entry that was written about a week ago. The entry makes me cringe at the obvious childishness I felt at that time, but the logical conclusion about Multiple still stands. I need to be reminded instead of being drawn into that sorry cycle of guilt and annoyance again.

This does not mean that when I return home and meet up with Panther that I might not be re-enacting my situation again. However, this is where the diary helps. I need to be reminded about the conclusions I drew from that sorry period of my life. That what I felt and may once again feel for Panther is a mixture of lust, friendship, a severe case of expectations unfulfiled, i.e. what-ifs, loneliness, and expediency. Not to mention that his temperament and mine do not suit at all. I think I better repeat that to fix it in my head. He has several peculiarities that irritate me to no end, and they are fundamental ones.

BF has annoying characteristics but seem to make up for them. I do not know for certain, which is why it is essential for him to be around me for an extended period of time. I need some time to work things out to my satisfaction, and him to do so. He seems to think me the perfect foil to him, or that is my impression on what he thinks about my virtues. It could be my superego at work again, but no matter. That is for another day.

Note: Quit reading G. Heyer's books. I am getting somewhat tired of her insipid romances anyway and need something more robust to read. Maybe Judith McNaught again? Oh when is the George R. R. Martin book coming out? In November. I am getting far too maudlin for my taste. Some masculine book I need, to save me from my insipidness.