Free in a manner of speaking

Paul asked me out for New Year's Eve. I will go, it should be fun, and it will be much better then sitting home and dreaming of Sharkboy.
I cannot even ask, "What have I got myself into." I already know, I am too old to play dumb.
Mother said you cannot help who you love. I always argued, I thought love was an act of will, you just choose... OK, I was 17 when I had that idea. Sharkboy isn't really a good description of him. He is more wolf-like. Turquoise eyes,soft brown hair, lean and muscular. Sure in himself, and a good judge of character. He knew me when we first spoke, I thought it was a trick of my mind, but he continues to know me. It is like he picked up the book of my life and studied it carefully. I guess it is flattering to be the object of such close scrutiny, but it can be unnerving. I wonder if I am boring sometimes?
He says I am a constant surprise. I don't try to be.
I visualize him as part of my life, I have a feeling this is not going to end well. Who will pick up the pieces when I am broken?