Its that there are only two outcomes…

1. Break up,

2. Or one of us could die.

And who really wants to do either one of those things?!

Its a lot to think about. I mean, are all the laughs really worth it if you’re just gonna suffer through a break-up in the end? Or having someone around that my kids adore, who plays Candyland and draws animals with them, if one of us is just gonna die someday? Or having someone to distract me on those empty, lonely kidless weekends, watching Arrested Development and cooking enchiladas, if I’m just gonna end up alone with nothing but a whole bunch of cats, and knitting, and Lifetime Movies for Women to keep me company in the end?

Its too bad those are the only options.

(Well… there is a third option, for some people, I guess, for those who are into that sort of misery, but we must never, ever speak of that option because I personally tried that once and it ended badly . Very, very badly.)

Which probably explains my severe anxiety disorder, flashbacks and nightmares, and why I’m having the overactive adrenaline response urging me to RUN. AWAY. FAST.

Episodes of dissociation, they call it. I can’t help it, really.

Which unfortunately leaves only 1) death,

Or 2) breaking up and becoming the Crazy Cat Lady.

Definitely the least painful potential outcomes of a relationship.

And yet, call me crazy, but neither one of those options sound like very much fun.

If only I didn’t like him so much…