Tis the season for regret.

...and I thought I was better. I never stopped to wonder if those traits had ever really passed but, I could feel the change inside me. I could feel that I was different. What is so different if that, of all things, is not? My strive is stronger. My intentions are better. But my fears must be double in intensity. How can I keep going like this. The fact of the matter...it's only one genre of men that will bring this downfall. Only those intelligent man, men with content, men with history. Those are the men I will try to obtain and eventually push away. Give me a thousand ignorant, foolish boys...and you'll never see me trip. Argh.