It has occurred to me with some (much) forethought (as well as afterthought, pre-thought, over-thought-out or on-the-rag thought) that it's time to admit some new things aloud.

See, I've discovered, and have been long suspecting as much, how the effects of bad relationships linger, even when you think you're tough; and consequently how I roll with the times in and out of situations that or have attempted to arrange the closure of those effects.

Thing number two, I am more emotional than all the emotional people I know. Um. Yeah. Way more. Like, still-don't-want-to-admit-it-but-have-done-some-work-in-that-area blowby. Yeah. Like Harley with their admitted oil leak problems that they've worked and worked over the years and in the different models of motorcycles to reduce and eliminate and, until recently, struggled with even in their newer models.

Not that anyone really cares. Or for those that would hypothetically ever read this, see it, and honestly perceive where I'm going with this, it's not as though very many of those hypothetical few could relate entirely because, well, I don't even understand why I'm as emotional as I remember mi abuelita being--I'm an extremely emotional person. People just don't get that.

I've always known this. I've conceded it. I've tried denying parts of it. I've struggled for 34 years, 3 months, some odd days to overcome it, to be stronger than my emotions. I've been brick-wall stopped in my tracks because of it, I've had more than my share of relationship problems because of it, and I've made some pretty wild-ass, dumbass, hair-brained, wtf-are-you-thinking decisions because of it.

And still, for as much as I've learned about myself and that hairy monster that feels like an imbalance of emotion, and for how much I've tried to restructure my thoughts and self-control around it, it still finds its way into my language, making me cringe and cry and be humiliated in yet another aftermath of explosion wherein the emotional layer of blubber created or formed in me is the undercurrent which has poisoned even my subconscious.

Making it worse is knowing that I have emotional females in my family who get most of this, who are also emotional, who get the temperamental feelings and get the easy tear-jerker feelings, married successfully for ten, fifteen, twenty years. I couldn't even handle it for ten in my marriage, and already at a year, this relationship has already been tainted with my inability to rework what makes me tick.

I realize that is a supremely negative way to look at it. It is not as though I am entirely and solely responsible for the outcomes in any given situation where there are two people with two individual ways of thinking sometimes collide.

It's just that now I am in a loving, committed-from-both-sides, normal relationship wherein I feel loved and respected by a man I truly love and respect, and my occasional drop of the ball in remembering the bigger picture and position of relativity still wreaks havoc on what should have been a simple conversation. (A two-minute blip turned into an hour-plus conversation, discussion, then battle in which the discussion of breaking up came up. Again.)

For the record, I think it is so wrong to bring breaking up into the mix if you're not really seriously resolved to follow through.

And now, I'm left with a hazy after-glow that is far closer to a fog, because what had started with an intention to resolve something without being confrontational actually turned into a full-blown, full on confrontation anyway.

The daze that is left over in the wake of all of this just makes me crazy! I usually march forward and onward because there's no point in spinning out. Spinning out is an old game I used to play.

But there are a few conclusions or conditions, at least, to consider.

My upbringing for sure.