Decisions, decisions, decisions

While I am not dismissing the fact that my friends are only after my welfare and my soul's redemption in the after-life, there is one thing that I'm confused if I failed to elaborate with them or they just chose to overlook.

I don't like, I mean, I ABHOR being pushed to do things which under wonderful nor uncompromising situations I won't risk nor consider doing. Everybody knows that. My life is governed by one person and that is MYSELF.
I do what I want, how I want it to be, when I want it done and predominantly, why I want it done.

I like making decisions for my life. Plainly because I intend to hold myself accountable for every outcome it brings. Even at the cost of my convenience and regardless of my evident impetuousness, there's always this unseen, hovering assurance in every choice I myself made. Especially upon knowing that I made them without having to cause unwanted burden to someone else.

If I happen to be a lame duck opting for the lesser things in life by means of half-baked choices, then that has to be my burden to bear. Not my Mom's, not my friend's and most importantly, not my boyfriend's. If a mess turns up, I would like to proudly stand up against it, chin up and proud that I got off the mishap myself.

At the risk of sounding presumptuous, dependence to me is somewhat synonymous to blame-switching. And the mere thought of subjecting someone to such dilemma makes me feel uncomfortable and at the same time, irresponsible. It's absolute crap! And Jesus Christ, it's not me! Lifting the anchor and having somebody else do the rowing is too miserly a picture!

Now my friend, I'd like to think that you mean no harm with your words. But this is my life. So I get to play it the way I want it to be. Blabber all you want, but hell, I just don't care. Right now, I am determined to keep the solace and the calmness brought by this long-standing status quo. Let's not break the pattern yet shall we?

Just venting.