The problem is,

I'm interested about people, not so much interested in them--or being involved with them in that way, much less involving them in my life.  As I run into more and more awkward professions, it becomes obvious that it's my enthusiasm and singular nature that tends to land me in these sorts of situations.  It creates half of a bridge that people try to run across without realizing that the other half--you know, the crucial bit--is missing.

I realize my enigmatic attitude causes somewhat of an unwarranted headfucking.  These people probably deserve better.  OR. Maybe I do.  Well, that would explain everything.

But in actuality, it's just that I haven't figured out what I want yet, or if I even want anything at all, at this point.  Realistically, seeing how we're readying ourselves for a period of major transition in life right now, it's not the time to seriously commit to anything but yourself, really. You have to sort yourself out first. 

I just wish I would be able to maintain that mentality during my period.  Ugh, when you're bleeding your insides out and your hormones are overtaking your sensibility and exaggerating your emotions, there are just so many things you want, things you don't ordinarily want, much less need (e.g. intimate companionship, cupcakes, etc.).  Then a week pasts and you just feel silly for having those thoughts and acting out.  It's argued that PMS is a culture-specific syndrome limited to Western countries, you know.  Other societies primarily report physical pain for their PMS symptoms.  It makes you wonder if it's all in our heads, this whole mood swing thing.  Growing up, we hear and learn all about this PMS crap from crazy women, scared men, and well-meaning textbooks--it wouldn't be unlikely that that influences us on a subconscious level, causing us to act a little psychotic during our time of the month as well.

OR MAYBE, it's catharsis. 

Ok, shut up, Chantal.  Shut up.  You could analyze this all night and still get nowhere.