[These are the things that I’m mostly too pussy to say to your face.]
You were on my mind a lot last night.
I just keep thinking of the fact that everyone views you as the bad guy.
And here I am, feeling torn,
because they judge from the outside, when I see glimpses of your mind.
besides the fact that i drink coffee throughout the entire day, i think a reason i stay up way too late is because i feel like i’m waiting for something to happen
i don’t know what there could possibly be to wait for
but i always have this feeling that something might change, and i want to be awake for it
I want to start making more personal written blog posts on here. So here goes…
7 days ago, I talked to him for the first time in 9, maybe 10 months. I’ve been fighting it for so long, but 4 shots of tequila and 6 corona’s later, I made a call. He didn’t pick up, but he responded the next day. I said everything I’ve been feeling for almost a year, even after how we tore each other apart when we ended, I never cared about that nasty falling out, I loved him anyways. I don’t even know why, I’ve dated since him and I eventually became happy with my life again, but I just… Anyways, I got the response I expected, so I couldn’t really be sad about it. I just needed him to know I still cared. Even if he doesn’t. Love. hah. It’s funny how sometimes you don’t realize you love someone until you have been deprived of them for almost a god damned year and you still have them in the back of your mind every day, every time you’re having fun, you’re wandering if they’re doing the same, something crosses your path that you used to talk about with them, and you wander if they ever got to do what they said they planned on doing, you’re kissing someone else even, and you wander how many people they’ve kissed since you. This love thing, it makes me sound insane and obsessive, but i’m not. Infatuated maybe, but I’m happy. I keep doing me, I hope he’s doing the same.
I have decided I want to venture out of Texas. Texas will always be my home, my best friends are here, my parents and brother are here, but I want to make extreme moves. At the same time I don’t want to travel just to see the world, although that is a beautiful experience, I want to travel and I want it to have purpose other than benefitting my own personal need for change. I just need to figure out what type of purpose. I know a few people who spend their youth making extreme travels, but at the same time, I can look at them in their eyes when they’re settling down for a bit, and they look so sad unless they’re constantly on the move. A few have even told me that their lives feel empty sometimes. I don’t want that, I want purpose.
And that’s all I have to say for today.