An Optimist's Recovery

I am taking an in between break on the relativism thing. I'm not filled with enough blinding rage to attack it. Instead, I want to talk about optimism, about hope.
If you have known me in recent years, you probably think of me in two or three ways: an emo kid, a romantic, and a kind of happy go lucky jokester. These perceptions are correct to a certain extent. There are things that make me immensely sad and I have been really self-mutilating my heart and soul over these past few years. It's led to full on depression and the need of medicines to help me regain the "Zaire" that I know.
Throughout this process of therapy, medication, school, work, fanfictioning, and trying to hone my teaching craft, I have recovered one great thing about myself. I have realized what my essence truly is.
First, some background, I was mostly a happy child. I knew or felt that my father didn't love me and that caused me great distress, but my base persona has always been a happy one; though, I must say, this wasn't always overt. I am rather even keel, but still quite happy and optimistic.
Over the years, my life being an abused child and not having a way to properly deal with that began to take its tolls. The depression was started here. I could not see a way out, and felt stranded. So, I tried to protect myself by, mostly correctly, assume that people were going to let me down (particularly in romantic endeavors). If I knew it was going to happen, I could get up all the proper defenses and detach my emotions. I was sick of dealing with pain and desired to insulate myself from it.
Interestingly enough, this didn't prevent me from giving my all in these relationships and in my friendships. Sure, sometimes I was crippled by my very real sadness, but I always did my best. Sometimes the black cloud that surrounded me most days because such a burden I did rather imprudent things. Yes, there were moments and months of desperation. There were times where I rushed things because I had come to see myself as broken goods. Hope was mostly gone for me and the only way I felt that I could feel it would be with someone's assistance; I needed someone to hope in, because I had nothing for myself, or I was in the least headed in that direction.
This became a bitter cycle, naturally. I would end up in a--usually--short relationship that either crash and burned due to passion, imprudence, youth, or just being too calm for someone.
Sometimes I have been too far ahead of whomever I was dating, or I was just not responsive enough.
In light of all this, I tried to color myself a cynic; and, one girl in particular, totally put me on blast for that in a letter she wrote to me long ago. Her name, is not going to be mentioned, but we had a storm of a relationship. Things happened really fast (they never went too far though), but I am sure it left a mark on both of us.
Here are the things she says she thought of me:

-I am an optimist. I am quite hopeful, whatever I say.
-I am passionate and loving. My love can swallow someone, can be too much.
-I am genuine.

I rejected people saying such nice things about me for various reasons, two of them being: I felt they couldn't be true because obviously I was a screw up like my father made me feel, and it couldn't be true because I didn't "really" have any friends (also according to my father). I had internalized those words sometime and this was the result. I was at war with myself.
There is more to this story, but that is not what I want to focus on. I want to talk about how those kind, loving words from a past girlfriend have helped me revive myself. I am, in fact, optimistic, passionate and loving, and genuine. I think this is what get people to tell me stuff they shouldn't all the time lol.

I just need to write this to put it out there for myself. Good night.

Zaire