Superman is pregnant

You see I tend to obsess about things for a long time and generally it gets out of hand and then very bad.  But with relationships, there is a block that I have developed; a very useful and troubling.  If I am  infatuated with someone I will often obsess about them quietly when they are single, but when they are not single, my infatuation disappears.  When they are single again, e infatuation returns unabated.  Great and not so great.

My infatuation with Seventh is slowly going away, because she is in a relationship.  But also because I wanted it to go this way when I first started falling in love with her, or the idea of her.  The problem was that everything I wanted to do was legal, according to the law, but I initially knew that the mind of a child does not make mature decisions and I told myself that I could not take advantage her poor decision capacity.  It was one of the reasons that I avoided going back to the Big Smoke after I went finished school.  If you think you will succumb to temptation, remove yourself from the situation.  That was my original thoughts.

But my thoughts became corrupted.  When I came back into her life, she had changed, as I originally hoped she would, which is a half truth; I also hoped that she would not change.  It would have been nice if there was someone who loved me back.  But I should not be upset that she has made her own choices.  I think this might be how a parent sees their child who is making their own choices, but the wrong choices.  

Seventh called me again, after I had made these series of realizations.  She told me that she thinks she is pregnant.  Thanks to my personal abuse at the hands on MPTR, where I paid for a four week course for her birthing class, Hypno-Birthing, I have a lot of information to help her with.  I can help make her pregnancy better than she would have if she had no help.  Enter my Superman complex.  I will leap over tall buildings to help my friend, who I am in love with, with her child with another man.  Clearly I am fucked in the head.

When I hear about a mass murder or a large accident, I secretly wish I was one of the dead.