Observation.

My entire dating history seems to be colored with unreasonable paranoia of "going too fast," to the point where I'll date a guy for six months and never so much as hold his hand in public, lest I make him think I'm some kind of crazy obsessive stalker or something.

But when I do actually like him, the stress of repressing it gets to me, to the point where I start going crazy and obsessing over him. (Um, a little bit. Not like dead-bunny-crazy. Just like neurotic.)

As in most things, the answer's clearly some sort of happy Middle Way, but it's a hell of a lot easier to say "well, it must be somewhere in the middle" than to figure out exactly what that means. Act in accordance with my actual feelings, I guess. That's a pretty scary concept.