Better out alone

I didn't really have anything to write about, things kind of settled down for a while. That *while* ended at Friday night. It's my fault. And I don't deal with it very classy but don't run so forward, let's see what happened.
After our nasty fall out with Danny we both calmed down, got into a very comfy daily routine. It really was surprisingly good, just hanging together, laughing our heart out, teasing each other (within rational lines we silently agreed about), just enjoying each other's company. I should have known it was too good to last.
It's already started on Wednesday. I helped a friend of mine to plan her wedding. It was a helluva lot of work, we did it in less than 2 weeks and then BANG, her low life fiance knocked up a chick. Of course, there were countless tears and all you want in a situation like that. I was very pissed, especially because I couldn't tell the dude off, given he was in the UK. I believe this was the first nail in our coffin. It just reminded me why not to trust anybody.
Then came Friday when Kitty showed up at the bafe, crying her heart out because her boyfriend dumpt her. I knew they had problems, living in a long distance relationship is never easy. Jason (her boyfriend) moved to the US a few months ago. Lately he neglected her and whatever Kitty tried, didn't work. I would have understood his reasons for breaking things with her but not the way he did it. That was beyond cruel. Kitty sent a mail to him the other day that they should talk if he had time (they didn't talk for days by then because he always got something more important to do) and he answered something like this: "Clearly, you are not capable to live in a healthy relationship. Go back to your corner where I found you. Find another poor bastard." Now *that* just pissed me off. How dare he? Who does he think he is?
I guess I don't have to say for the time Kitty left and Danny arrived I wasn't in the brightest of moods. Then he shared the big news about how he got together with Jess and I simply lost it. I broke. It wasn't because he hurt me, *I* hurt myself. He only made it worse, letting me cry it all out, saying things I needed to hear, making me laugh, holding me all night. Again, he was there when I needed him the most. I let this go too far though, or shall I say I let him get too close to the real me. We often joke about my "walls" and how nobody sees behind them. He saw the surface once and this time I let him go even further. That was a mistake, big time.
So what does a mature, adult woman do at times like these? Hide. Yes, I'm hiding. Juvenile? Yes. Could I trust him? Yes. Do I want to? No. Am I coward? Again, yes. Do I give a damn? No. I need to put some distance between us for real this time. I don't know how he does it but I open up to him without realizing what I do and that's just bad. I'm already an emotional mess and I've got enough to deal with. I will have to get back to my "untouchable" act before things got out of hand for good. I don't wanna be a bitch with him, hurt him. Surely, I would be, my alarm set off, sirense scream in my head, !DANGEROUSLY CLOSE! I would push him to the end of his patience and I don't want that. So hiding it is until I gather myself back together and be the cold bitch everybody knows and loves.