30 November 2005
They only want you when you're seventeen, when you're twenty-one, you're no fun.
Sometimes I forget that I'm so young. It seems like I've done so much, when I really have not. It feels like I've learned so much, which is possible. It feels like I've lived so much, when I really, really have not. It's really difficult to remember that I am so young, because I usually feel I need to act so very adult and mature.
I'm afraid to visit my home. It's coming up so quickly, and I'm not sure I'm ready. Those streets, those houses, those memories. I haven't thought about it for months, and suddenly it's about to be in my face again. I have a week to prepare myself for a flood of emotion. The sadness of seeing all the places where we walked, where we talked, where we kissed. The places where I grew up, places I have so many memories, fond and otherwise. The tough part is going to be escaping. If it's too much for me to handle, there's no where for me to go. I never had a quiet place I could go when I was feeling sad, or lonely. Maybe that's part of what made it so difficult.
I just realized, as I looked at a picture of the two of them together, just what makes me so jealous. It was never like that between us. He was never that happy with me. You can see it in his face.
I'm afraid to visit my home. It's coming up so quickly, and I'm not sure I'm ready. Those streets, those houses, those memories. I haven't thought about it for months, and suddenly it's about to be in my face again. I have a week to prepare myself for a flood of emotion. The sadness of seeing all the places where we walked, where we talked, where we kissed. The places where I grew up, places I have so many memories, fond and otherwise. The tough part is going to be escaping. If it's too much for me to handle, there's no where for me to go. I never had a quiet place I could go when I was feeling sad, or lonely. Maybe that's part of what made it so difficult.
I just realized, as I looked at a picture of the two of them together, just what makes me so jealous. It was never like that between us. He was never that happy with me. You can see it in his face.
Tender is the touch of someone that you love too much
I wonder where I'll be in a year? Two years? Five, ten, twenty? I don't even know where I'll be in a month. I barely know what's going on next week - or this one, for that matter.
Pining for someone is hard work. Admiring from afar takes so much effort, even when I'm not really very far.
My friend says he likes me. My heart wants to believe it, but my mind won't accept that possibility.
I'm jealous.
He's got a girl, she's got a guy, he's got a girl, she's got a guy, and he's got a girl. actually, there are no she's, just three he's. They've got girls. I'm jealous - I don't get a guy. Or a girl. I don't get anybody.
Dreams confuse me, confound my subconcious. Sex, love, hugs, drugs, drinks, games, life, work.
I wonder how many hugs I'll get next week. I haven't had a hug in a thousand years, it feels like. I did get a friendly, sympathetic pat on the shoulder today, though. I hadn't realized how tall he was until Friday.
Pining for someone is hard work. Admiring from afar takes so much effort, even when I'm not really very far.
My friend says he likes me. My heart wants to believe it, but my mind won't accept that possibility.
I'm jealous.
He's got a girl, she's got a guy, he's got a girl, she's got a guy, and he's got a girl. actually, there are no she's, just three he's. They've got girls. I'm jealous - I don't get a guy. Or a girl. I don't get anybody.
Dreams confuse me, confound my subconcious. Sex, love, hugs, drugs, drinks, games, life, work.
I wonder how many hugs I'll get next week. I haven't had a hug in a thousand years, it feels like. I did get a friendly, sympathetic pat on the shoulder today, though. I hadn't realized how tall he was until Friday.
24 November 2005
I push, I pull, the days go slow into a void we filled with death.
It's difficult to keep to myself lately. I've just started opening up to all the people I met months ago, and it's really difficult for me. I am slowly telling them about my life, my family, how I grew up. I don't know what they think of me, and that's the hardest part. I wish I could always know things like that, but I can't.
I've been talking a lot to someone I just met. I've been telling them things, more than I've told anyone else. I don't know why I trust them, but I do. It's crazy. I've already told about my secret crushes. Already, I don't even know why I did it. It comes up in conversation I guess, and I guess no one else has asked. I suppose if someone else asked me, I would tell. I'm honest, and I know that when asked straight up there is no way for me to hide the truth. I am a bad liar, but I am good at hiding. I asked, though, when I told them about it, and they said they wouldn't have guessed just regular. I suppose I'm glad for that.
It's just so hard. The last couple of days have been really difficult.
I look at him and we both laugh. About nothing, even. It's crazy. I met him somewhere a few nights ago, and when I showed up he beamed. Really, he looked so happy. I've been seeing a lot of him, and I talk to him all the time.
It's tough when there are other girls, and everything seems so utterly unattainable, in every situation.
I've been talking a lot to someone I just met. I've been telling them things, more than I've told anyone else. I don't know why I trust them, but I do. It's crazy. I've already told about my secret crushes. Already, I don't even know why I did it. It comes up in conversation I guess, and I guess no one else has asked. I suppose if someone else asked me, I would tell. I'm honest, and I know that when asked straight up there is no way for me to hide the truth. I am a bad liar, but I am good at hiding. I asked, though, when I told them about it, and they said they wouldn't have guessed just regular. I suppose I'm glad for that.
It's just so hard. The last couple of days have been really difficult.
I look at him and we both laugh. About nothing, even. It's crazy. I met him somewhere a few nights ago, and when I showed up he beamed. Really, he looked so happy. I've been seeing a lot of him, and I talk to him all the time.
It's tough when there are other girls, and everything seems so utterly unattainable, in every situation.
20 November 2005
Tell me that it's nobody's fault, nobody's fault but my own.
This has been a rough week. I've gotten pretty stressed about little things that don't matter. I've got a couple days to relax, though, and I'm going to take advantage of that.
I sneak around. I peek in places I shouldn't always peek, I look at pictures I shouldn't always see, I read messages I probably shouldn't read. I mean, I never go anyplace that I shouldn't already be, but there are certain things I should probably avoid, just to keep my sanity.
She seems a lot like me. I want to meet her, and I think I will, even though I shouldn't.
I feel like there are a lot of things I'm missing, or that I'm making up a lot of things. When I meet him somewhere, he smiles when I get there. We talk and talk, we laugh, it doesn't even matter. I don't, I can't love him. It wouldn't work out the way I'd want, which is perfectly, and it would just be... wrong, in a way.
I find myself frustratingly concerned with how I appear to someone else, though. Every word I say matters more than anything I have ever said. If I don't look just right, I am slightly embarassed. This is the id I know I like, though, even though I also shouldn't like him.
These are the people who reinforce my belief that I am not the kind of person people can fall in love with. Maybe I just haven't met the right person, but the only time anyone has loved me was completely based on circumstance, and pretty much being there in the right place at the right time, as far as I'm concerned.
If someone does like me, part of me wishes it wouldn't be a secret. The responsible part, however, knows that drama would not be a fun thing for me, and I don't need to deal with it.
I sneak around. I peek in places I shouldn't always peek, I look at pictures I shouldn't always see, I read messages I probably shouldn't read. I mean, I never go anyplace that I shouldn't already be, but there are certain things I should probably avoid, just to keep my sanity.
She seems a lot like me. I want to meet her, and I think I will, even though I shouldn't.
I feel like there are a lot of things I'm missing, or that I'm making up a lot of things. When I meet him somewhere, he smiles when I get there. We talk and talk, we laugh, it doesn't even matter. I don't, I can't love him. It wouldn't work out the way I'd want, which is perfectly, and it would just be... wrong, in a way.
I find myself frustratingly concerned with how I appear to someone else, though. Every word I say matters more than anything I have ever said. If I don't look just right, I am slightly embarassed. This is the id I know I like, though, even though I also shouldn't like him.
These are the people who reinforce my belief that I am not the kind of person people can fall in love with. Maybe I just haven't met the right person, but the only time anyone has loved me was completely based on circumstance, and pretty much being there in the right place at the right time, as far as I'm concerned.
If someone does like me, part of me wishes it wouldn't be a secret. The responsible part, however, knows that drama would not be a fun thing for me, and I don't need to deal with it.
16 November 2005
Give her a chance, she'll take you to dance.
"I've become just like a terrible mess
Searching the lines in my face for
Something more beautiful than is there"
My family life has always been one filled with drama. I have often compared it to a soap opera. Perhaps this is what makes me constantly assume that more is going on than meets the eye. I wonder what would happen if people were secretly in love with me, or if people found out i was secretly in love with them, or if someone died, or there was a fight, or whatever - but none of these things ever happen. It usually pans out to all be in my mind.
At the moment I am not depressed. I am not sad because no one loves me, and I am not especially down because of my living situation. I am feeling rather good, actually. I am good at my job, and I am getting better every day. I received a compliment from someone who is very important to me who I have not heard much good from in a while. I look quite pretty even though I have not brushed my hair in two days and I look like a lack of sleep has begun to devour my soul. I have been very productive outside of work, and I am considering the beginning of a plan to start my own little website.
All in all, life is good. I have friends and I have family and I have life. That is all that really matters, right?
Searching the lines in my face for
Something more beautiful than is there"
My family life has always been one filled with drama. I have often compared it to a soap opera. Perhaps this is what makes me constantly assume that more is going on than meets the eye. I wonder what would happen if people were secretly in love with me, or if people found out i was secretly in love with them, or if someone died, or there was a fight, or whatever - but none of these things ever happen. It usually pans out to all be in my mind.
At the moment I am not depressed. I am not sad because no one loves me, and I am not especially down because of my living situation. I am feeling rather good, actually. I am good at my job, and I am getting better every day. I received a compliment from someone who is very important to me who I have not heard much good from in a while. I look quite pretty even though I have not brushed my hair in two days and I look like a lack of sleep has begun to devour my soul. I have been very productive outside of work, and I am considering the beginning of a plan to start my own little website.
All in all, life is good. I have friends and I have family and I have life. That is all that really matters, right?
14 November 2005
It's alright, because there's beauty in the breakdown. So let go.
I'm not sure if I believe in love. This is an odd statement, since I have been in love. I suppose that I have been jaded by divorce, which was always a huge theme in my childhood. Parents, grandparents, friends... marriage just doesn't seem to last. I don't understand. Why do we have this tradition in so many cultures when it doesn't seem to be effective, especially in a world and a society where it is possible to take back or nullify a promise of 'forever'?
I suppose freedom brings many things. It brings independence, free thought, variety, and comfort. It also brings idiocy, irresponisbility, and adults acting as children.
Another thing that occured to me today - tv is one of the most effective ways to bring a message to the people. That is why we have anti-drug, -sex, and -alcohol commercials all over the airwaves. It makes it seem as though the television really is raising the children of my country. A lot of parents are not competent or responsible enough to teach their kids anything good, I guess, and they need everyone else to help them out. Schools don't help because that is just kids hanging out, and if you let school raise your kids it will just be kids raising each other.
My whole life I have always said I wanted to have children. A boy and a girl, I decided this nearly a decade ago. It is only recently that I have considered not having children. I have rather specific ideas about what I would do when raising my children. What if I failed? What if I turn out just like my parents? What if I am just not cut out for raising children? I do a fine job with cats, but a little human? I don't know if I could handle that kind of responsibility.
Anyway, I do not think I believe in love. It could just be a huge illusion, with no real purpose but to make our lives more dramatic. Things like love are why I consider myself agnostic and not atheistic. Perhaps, as a human being, I am no judge of how an omnipotent being would behave, but if I were creating the world I would certainly want something to entertain my creations, and what better than a little personal drama? "Oooh, yes, boyfriend, wives, adultery, murder, romance, haha! What a beautiful little theatre I have made for myself, if I may say so - and I may for I am the ruler of all!"
The simple joys of life are what keep me going - a glowing sunset, the cold wind on my face, the comfort of my cats, and the warm scent of tobacco.
I suppose freedom brings many things. It brings independence, free thought, variety, and comfort. It also brings idiocy, irresponisbility, and adults acting as children.
Another thing that occured to me today - tv is one of the most effective ways to bring a message to the people. That is why we have anti-drug, -sex, and -alcohol commercials all over the airwaves. It makes it seem as though the television really is raising the children of my country. A lot of parents are not competent or responsible enough to teach their kids anything good, I guess, and they need everyone else to help them out. Schools don't help because that is just kids hanging out, and if you let school raise your kids it will just be kids raising each other.
My whole life I have always said I wanted to have children. A boy and a girl, I decided this nearly a decade ago. It is only recently that I have considered not having children. I have rather specific ideas about what I would do when raising my children. What if I failed? What if I turn out just like my parents? What if I am just not cut out for raising children? I do a fine job with cats, but a little human? I don't know if I could handle that kind of responsibility.
Anyway, I do not think I believe in love. It could just be a huge illusion, with no real purpose but to make our lives more dramatic. Things like love are why I consider myself agnostic and not atheistic. Perhaps, as a human being, I am no judge of how an omnipotent being would behave, but if I were creating the world I would certainly want something to entertain my creations, and what better than a little personal drama? "Oooh, yes, boyfriend, wives, adultery, murder, romance, haha! What a beautiful little theatre I have made for myself, if I may say so - and I may for I am the ruler of all!"
The simple joys of life are what keep me going - a glowing sunset, the cold wind on my face, the comfort of my cats, and the warm scent of tobacco.
11 November 2005
You radiate sunshine in the back of my mind.
It's not that I am jealous, I think. Well... it is, but not jealous of whoever she is. I am jealous of his life. He gets everything, a caring family, a great education, a bunch of good friends, someone who loves him. He always has, and he always will, and he will never be grateful. I don't know, maybe he has changed, but I don't feel I've been that out of touch with him. I suppose he could have grown up since I left, though. I know I have.
It's just... I know that I made choices that put me in the situation I am in. I know that I chose to drop out of college, and I chose to move away from home. I chose to leave my friends behind, twice, and I have to deal with that. I am building a decent life here. I have made friends, I have a good job. I could make a career out of this job, I am sure, if I wanted to. I think that would not be so bad, but it is overwhelming to know that I have something I might truly be able to stick with. I am young, and it is hard to deal with something like that, something that gives me such a sense of responsibility and adulthood. I suppose that, in a way, I have a fear of commitment, and this may be one of the ways I express it.
Some days I feel very lonely, and some days I am glad for the solitude. I don't have to worry about pleasing anybody but myself. It does not matter what anybody else thinks of my choices, my words, my actions, because there is no one to answer to but me. No one has the importance in my life anymore to stand over me, to judge me. I can be whoever I want and it is okay. I hope that never changes.
I always thought that I was being myself before. I know now that is not entirely true. I was myself, sure, but I was not comfortable with myself. I am really growing up to be a person that I like, someone who I would enjoy talking to if I met them on the street. I have good interests, I am a good person, and I am think that I have gained a lot of confidence and become a better person in a lot of ways.
I am going to go enjoy some time to myself. It doesn't exactly come easily right now.
It's just... I know that I made choices that put me in the situation I am in. I know that I chose to drop out of college, and I chose to move away from home. I chose to leave my friends behind, twice, and I have to deal with that. I am building a decent life here. I have made friends, I have a good job. I could make a career out of this job, I am sure, if I wanted to. I think that would not be so bad, but it is overwhelming to know that I have something I might truly be able to stick with. I am young, and it is hard to deal with something like that, something that gives me such a sense of responsibility and adulthood. I suppose that, in a way, I have a fear of commitment, and this may be one of the ways I express it.
Some days I feel very lonely, and some days I am glad for the solitude. I don't have to worry about pleasing anybody but myself. It does not matter what anybody else thinks of my choices, my words, my actions, because there is no one to answer to but me. No one has the importance in my life anymore to stand over me, to judge me. I can be whoever I want and it is okay. I hope that never changes.
I always thought that I was being myself before. I know now that is not entirely true. I was myself, sure, but I was not comfortable with myself. I am really growing up to be a person that I like, someone who I would enjoy talking to if I met them on the street. I have good interests, I am a good person, and I am think that I have gained a lot of confidence and become a better person in a lot of ways.
I am going to go enjoy some time to myself. It doesn't exactly come easily right now.
08 November 2005
Wait, they don't love you like I love you.
I've lost my motivation. Working, sleeping, caring - nothing matters. I can't save money, and I will be trapped in this disgusting, miserable place for the rest of time. I'm not making any progress and it's depressing. If I could only save more than $20 a week, maybe I would have some hope for the future.
I've merely got to let myself and I'm sure it could all fall apart around me. Just a little more angst, or a bit extra anger, and I could give it all up.
"Don't mind her, she's just lost her will to live."
I constantly wonder what everybody thinks about me. If someone makes a crack about homosexuals, I will defend. Do they think I'm a lesbian? That is only partly true. I see friends staring sometimes. Do they think I am strange, beautiful, moronic? I sometimes wish I could read minds, because I cannot just ask. Then I would be bringing attention to the fact that I am paying attention, and that is just too high-school-drama for me.
I know what's happening here. I am finally allowing myself to deal with the rejection I put myself through by moving up here. He didn't love me, and it took me so long to figure it out... I need to accept that, and move on with my life, I suppose. I have known it all along, I have been searching for a replacement. A replacement is not necessary, however, but because of that I cannot just allow myself to live, to love, to enjoy. Everything must be a dramatic, romantic tragedy in my mind. I suppose I just do not want to be caught unaware, but I really do turn everything into such stories.
"I hate you."
"Hah, good!"
"Geez, just kidding."
"I know."
The eyes, the smiles, the attitudes, the everything - is it really becoming more intense? Am I really noticing a change, or is it just that I am imagining things?
I cannot get over this kid. I really like him, I think, for real, but there is nothing that I will do about it. It will forever be my secret, until the day I change my mind.
I've merely got to let myself and I'm sure it could all fall apart around me. Just a little more angst, or a bit extra anger, and I could give it all up.
"Don't mind her, she's just lost her will to live."
I constantly wonder what everybody thinks about me. If someone makes a crack about homosexuals, I will defend. Do they think I'm a lesbian? That is only partly true. I see friends staring sometimes. Do they think I am strange, beautiful, moronic? I sometimes wish I could read minds, because I cannot just ask. Then I would be bringing attention to the fact that I am paying attention, and that is just too high-school-drama for me.
I know what's happening here. I am finally allowing myself to deal with the rejection I put myself through by moving up here. He didn't love me, and it took me so long to figure it out... I need to accept that, and move on with my life, I suppose. I have known it all along, I have been searching for a replacement. A replacement is not necessary, however, but because of that I cannot just allow myself to live, to love, to enjoy. Everything must be a dramatic, romantic tragedy in my mind. I suppose I just do not want to be caught unaware, but I really do turn everything into such stories.
"I hate you."
"Hah, good!"
"Geez, just kidding."
"I know."
The eyes, the smiles, the attitudes, the everything - is it really becoming more intense? Am I really noticing a change, or is it just that I am imagining things?
I cannot get over this kid. I really like him, I think, for real, but there is nothing that I will do about it. It will forever be my secret, until the day I change my mind.
06 November 2005
Easy does it, think of something to say.
My worries will seem so meaningless tomorrow, but tonight I cannot stop. I think and think, even as things change. Nothing has changed, though. It's all in my mind. No one talks about me when I am not around, no one whispers behind my back. There is no looking, no pointing, no laughing. I am liked, I am accepted, there is nothing more. Most of all, people are not evaluating me. No one is observing my every breath, my every blink, my every glance but me. I worry so much about appearances, about how I act. Did I say the right thing, did I laugh too much, did I seem too enthusiastic? Imagine what I must be like when I'm nervous.
I fret and I worry, and I stress when no one is around. Most of all, I dream. Sometimes I wish I didn't dream. Some dreams just get in the way of reality, leaving you stuck in a mess when you finally awaken and come to your senses.
Right now, however... it has become clear that I may not be certain of what is truly going on when I am not around. My uneasiness seems suddenly justified and my paranoia not so absurd. What if they think... I will not worry about it. I will tell the truth if I am asked, but until then I will not trouble myself over this. It's not worth it.
I fret and I worry, and I stress when no one is around. Most of all, I dream. Sometimes I wish I didn't dream. Some dreams just get in the way of reality, leaving you stuck in a mess when you finally awaken and come to your senses.
Right now, however... it has become clear that I may not be certain of what is truly going on when I am not around. My uneasiness seems suddenly justified and my paranoia not so absurd. What if they think... I will not worry about it. I will tell the truth if I am asked, but until then I will not trouble myself over this. It's not worth it.
05 November 2005
Magic rainbows weaved of sugar.
It's back, the nagging feeling of inferiority and insecurity.
It happens when I am reminded that I am not good enough for anyone else to love. When I see a picture of the two of them together, when I see him with that other girl, when hear about his next date. It doesn't matter who, it doesn't even matter if I have feelings for the person, all that matters is that I am not involved. I think back to when I was in school, and all the boys that I realize probably liked me, but never did anything about it. I think of the boy at my last job, and it seems pretty clear that he felt, at least slightly, like I did. Why, though, have I been so alone? I cannot even say for sure that any one person has ever loved me. I thought I knew, but I do not want to be so pretentious as to claim so. It does not matter what they say. They may be my best friend, but I lost my trust in their word long ago.
I am feeling again like I am just that chick who's pretty cool at work. I am the laid-back, cool manager who everyone likes to work with because things get done but it's still fun, I think. I have made one friend since I moved to this town, who I know I would still hang out with if we did not work together. Pooh.
It is not an unjustified fear, is it? The fear of being unloved. It can mean so many things. Not enough in so many ways. Not smart enough, pretty enough, tall, short, dark, or loud enough. Not funny, gentle, shy, kind, loose, cute, or young enough, and not trendy, thin, fat, polite, resonsible, or assertive enough. It's as though I'm everything I shouldn't be while being everything I want to be. I think I am a great person, I think I am interesting, smart, and funny, and I think that I am beautiful in many different ways. It is depressing that no one else seems to think so.
Only one voice ever told me I was wonderful that I really, truly believed, and that voice has not told me so in a long, long time, and more than likely never will.
Most days I am content with just being myself, standing alone in the world. Somedays, though, I cannot help but long for the touch of another human, for that feeling in my gut when I know that I mean the world to someone who means the world to me.
Then I think how that could never happen again, and I realize it does not really matter. I will always have myself.
It happens when I am reminded that I am not good enough for anyone else to love. When I see a picture of the two of them together, when I see him with that other girl, when hear about his next date. It doesn't matter who, it doesn't even matter if I have feelings for the person, all that matters is that I am not involved. I think back to when I was in school, and all the boys that I realize probably liked me, but never did anything about it. I think of the boy at my last job, and it seems pretty clear that he felt, at least slightly, like I did. Why, though, have I been so alone? I cannot even say for sure that any one person has ever loved me. I thought I knew, but I do not want to be so pretentious as to claim so. It does not matter what they say. They may be my best friend, but I lost my trust in their word long ago.
I am feeling again like I am just that chick who's pretty cool at work. I am the laid-back, cool manager who everyone likes to work with because things get done but it's still fun, I think. I have made one friend since I moved to this town, who I know I would still hang out with if we did not work together. Pooh.
It is not an unjustified fear, is it? The fear of being unloved. It can mean so many things. Not enough in so many ways. Not smart enough, pretty enough, tall, short, dark, or loud enough. Not funny, gentle, shy, kind, loose, cute, or young enough, and not trendy, thin, fat, polite, resonsible, or assertive enough. It's as though I'm everything I shouldn't be while being everything I want to be. I think I am a great person, I think I am interesting, smart, and funny, and I think that I am beautiful in many different ways. It is depressing that no one else seems to think so.
Only one voice ever told me I was wonderful that I really, truly believed, and that voice has not told me so in a long, long time, and more than likely never will.
Most days I am content with just being myself, standing alone in the world. Somedays, though, I cannot help but long for the touch of another human, for that feeling in my gut when I know that I mean the world to someone who means the world to me.
Then I think how that could never happen again, and I realize it does not really matter. I will always have myself.
02 November 2005
I once knew a girl, in the years of my youth.
This week has been stressful, but I've been good. I haven't smoked since Friday. I needed to prove to myself that I could go a week without, because I was starting to fear addiction.
I deal well with stress. I am not sure if I bottle it up inside, or if I just don't let it get to me, but I do not freak out very badly like some people. I get frazzled and I try to get everything over with as fast as possible, and I start going "aah!" when something else comes up, or the time is appropriate. I also laugh, though, and try to make it a good time. I don't let the stress build up and thow me over the edge to insanity, because that would not help the situation.
Well... it is only Wednesday. I am not sure how I am going to survive the rest of the week, but tomorrow is my first real day off in about two weeks, so I am sure that will do wonders for my chances of survival.
Sometimes, it is fun to keep things secret, like my little crushes on boys. Especially those that come at the most inappropriate times, or that I know will never last or become anything more. It is fun because I can grow out of them on my own, and no one needs to know that it ever happened. I am sure that, someday, I will still be friends with these folks, and perhaps I will tell them about it and laugh. Perhaps I will be friends with them for a long time, and it will grow into something more, but it is not something I feel compelled to think about anymore. It is like when you break up with someone who you really, truly loved, and you think about them all the time. After a while, you notice that you aren't thinking about them constantly, and then a week goes by and you haven't even thought of their name, and then a month, and then suddenly it's been years and you've moved on, built a life of your own, and are happy. Well... maybe not just like that.
Time goes faster for me when I'm not in love.
I deal well with stress. I am not sure if I bottle it up inside, or if I just don't let it get to me, but I do not freak out very badly like some people. I get frazzled and I try to get everything over with as fast as possible, and I start going "aah!" when something else comes up, or the time is appropriate. I also laugh, though, and try to make it a good time. I don't let the stress build up and thow me over the edge to insanity, because that would not help the situation.
Well... it is only Wednesday. I am not sure how I am going to survive the rest of the week, but tomorrow is my first real day off in about two weeks, so I am sure that will do wonders for my chances of survival.
Sometimes, it is fun to keep things secret, like my little crushes on boys. Especially those that come at the most inappropriate times, or that I know will never last or become anything more. It is fun because I can grow out of them on my own, and no one needs to know that it ever happened. I am sure that, someday, I will still be friends with these folks, and perhaps I will tell them about it and laugh. Perhaps I will be friends with them for a long time, and it will grow into something more, but it is not something I feel compelled to think about anymore. It is like when you break up with someone who you really, truly loved, and you think about them all the time. After a while, you notice that you aren't thinking about them constantly, and then a week goes by and you haven't even thought of their name, and then a month, and then suddenly it's been years and you've moved on, built a life of your own, and are happy. Well... maybe not just like that.
Time goes faster for me when I'm not in love.
