Me.Thinking.I.Really.Need.To.Stop.Doing.That

I know it's late. I am up worrying. I wish I could ask myself questions, and get answers. For example: Why can't I be normal? Why is that so stinking hard?
Should I go to military ball with Chris? Most girls would be flattered and excited to be able to go.
No not Kacee. Kacee gets offended that her boyfriend wants her to wear a dress. She gets upset that he thinks they look pretty on girls.
Why is that so hard for me to just take in?
Most girls dream about this for forever. They spend days picking out dressed, getting tans, finding high heels, figuring out how they are going to do their hair and make up.
Not me. I fight with my boyfriend because I don't want to go. Part of me does because I don't want to look back at high school and wish I had went like my mom does. It is Chris's senior year. His last year to do any of this. He wants to go, and I don't want to ruin this for him.
Also lets look at my previous boyfriends and our ordeals with high school dances:
Jared Terry... because my mom wouldn't let me go he went "alone".

• But really he lied and went with the girl he cheated on me with.

= breakup

Randy Fowler... because I couldn't go because I moved to another state he took one of my friends.

• We fought over it for weeks.
• He ended up having a huge crush on her... still does... 6 months later.

= yet again... breakup.

Looking at my previous history... I should probably just go. But a bigger part of me doesn't. I HATE skirts, dresses, and nice clothes. Something about the human race forcing girls and women to wear them. Women literally had to fight for the right to wear pants. I don't want people to think just because I wore them twice I'll keep wearing them. I even went to my dad's funeral in pants.

Also, I feel like it takes away part of me. Like what ever is left of me will be gone. If I wear a dress I'll be stereotyped as just another girl. I'm NOT okay with that. People will smile and be proud of me because I dressed up for such a stupid cause. That makes me sick for some reason... Not to mention Chris's mom will be taking pictures... That's like a suicide call for me right there.

I don't know why I'm like this. Sometimes I wonder if this is from the trauma of my dad dying. I watched him hit my mom. I watched him drink. Yet still, I want to be his little girl forever. I want to go fishing with him. Learn to weld as great as he did. Fix trucks with him. Hand him the wrench, and drink Pepsi on the porch. (I quit drinking caffeine and carbonation for a but... but also cause the taste brings back memories.) I wont have him to lean on. To protect me. To be there when my mom and step dad get out of hand.

that...

or I'm am and have always been doomed to be a walking freak show. A bomb ready to be set off.

I don't know... When Chris and I were talking he said he only went to a high school dance with one girl and it was as friends. He said he didn't even get to dance with her cause she didn't want to dance, but that is a lie. On his face book months ago I saw a picture of them dancing. Why did he feel like he had to lie to me?

Real questions I have to ask myself:

"love" or "being myself:"?

"normalcy" or "individuality"?

S.O.S. Send out signal. HELP! I guess no one can really save me from myself though. I seriously don't know how long I am going to be able to live with myself.