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.
// posted by Liz @ 13:17 
