Last night, as I lay in bed, I felt safe. This had me worried. You see, I felt safe up for my entire life until the moment I met mi cielito. At least I thought I felt safe - the moment I first embraced mi cielito I really felt safe for the first time in my life. What I had been feeling up until then was unsafe, but I didn't recognize it because I felt that way all the time. This made it difficult for me to recognize risk, because I felt equally safe walking along a dark street at night and curled up in my little bed at my parents' house.

Then mi cielito came along, and I was safe for real. The only problem is, I only felt safe in his presence, so I felt unsafe the rest of the time, whether walking along a dark street at night or curled up in my little bed in res. However, this did make me extremely cautious when alone, and any potentially risk behaviour would be reserved for when I was with mi cielito and feeling safe (this, of course, had the added advantage that if I tried anything foolish, at least I'd be with an escort).

Then, last night, I felt safe. And I was alone. What could this mean? I hadn't felt "safe" alone since before mi cielito materialized into my life. And this "safe" had really been unsafe. Had I lost the ability to recognize safety again? What was wrong with me? I fretted about this for a bit, and then fell asleep.

I forgot all about it until just now. There's some kind of fratboyish party going on next door, and they had just started spilling out into the hall as I was about to take my garbage out. I saw all those loud drunk cleancut boys in their khakis, and felt that it wasn't safe to go into the hall. Unsafe.

That means that last night I felt safe. Alone. And safe.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. It has never happened before.