An itch I can't scratch

This country has nothing more to offer me. It has run me dry, and is now causing me to begin fucking up the few relationships I have here that I treasure.
Being not homeless, but yet homeless, means I need to stay at friend's houses. The rules are different in every household, and lines that are in different places. It is completely possible to cross that line, or break a rule, without really realising. I just get a gut feeling when I'm doing something, saying hmm, maybe this won't be accepted. In my idiocy I ignore that feeling, calling myself paranoid.
I mean, it's not a massive deal. I understood, I was understood, no harm done now. Yet, I cannot help feeling selfish and humiliated and this nagging feeling won't let me be. Perhaps it is good that I am moving to Finland, I will live with family and I've known the rules for the last 20 years. God, this feeling is like an itch you can't scratch.

I am petrified that their opinion of me has changed. This must be ridiculous.

I am trying to scratch but I just can't reach it.

Aargh.

Second post

Part 1 of Backstabber Extracts

Part 1 has been posted.
Click here to read.

The Return of the Backstabber Extracts

I know that the only good thing I've ever written is the Backstabber Extracts, and so due to feelings of inadequacy I'm going to bring it back.

However, I will do it differently. I am going to open a new blog dedicated to the Backstabber Extracts, but I will release each part separately, and of course, edited into something better.

Thanks to all the fans, I hope you will stay tuned for the rest of the Backstabbers!

It isn't that open-minded here either.

I've been contemplating some things. First I need to blatantly make some things clear.
I am a "citizen of the world." I've lived in many many many countries. I've met many people, and many cultures, and many philosophies.
I am, in a non-traditional sense, a widow. I have loved and been blissfully, ignorantly, truly happy, and then been crushed down and felt like not living.

I am now living in a small sub-town right outside of Rotterdam, a place with a couple bars, shops, and plenty of people. I've noticed that even though the Dutch are considered open minded and free spirited, very few actually are. Over here, I get looked down on every single day because I speak English, I drink on week days and/or before 5 o clock, because I have fun and sing and dance, because I randomly help people who seem to not know what they're doing...
I don't mind it, in fact I could not care less. They're missing out.
But I'm also missing out. I'm missing out the people who join you when you have a drink. I miss the people who see you dance and dance too, or sing along when you sing. I miss "thank you" and "you're welcome."

I don't mind people staring at me because they finally see me dance or hug or kiss someone new. But I mind when they mind.

I only have this one life, and it may end tomorrow or the day after. I won't waste today thinking if the woman next to me is judging me as an immigrant because she heard me say "thank you" in English. Or if that girl is looking at me dirty because my dancing may be a bit out there.

So why do the rest of them have time to think about those things?
Why do they let it bother them?

Why do you?