Sometimes my feelings are so easily articulated it is like they want to be given a tragic poetry form. This one is so perfect that I don't want to share it. But if this is all I'll tell people, then here it is.

It's like I was soaring, flying in the blue above. I hit a brick wall up there, and stopped faster than fast. Now I'm here on the ground, broken, and wondering, "Who put that brick wall up there," when I should be wondering, "Why was I even flying?"

Another name in the journal

I won't even blog about him. Because, who knows? But all I want to do is talk about it and talk to him, but my phone is dead, and I don't even know if he would be talking to me right now. And he knows how much I read into things because we've discussed this, yet he still sends texts that say, "A perfect team," and "I'm not dating her.... I'm not pursuing here and never will," "I'm not dating her." Dang. Writing this down makes it seem less... My cousin says I have to believe and give into the fantasy a bit.


But when I do that my stomach fill up with cold sunshine and I need to vomit. And that whole thing where people have goofy grins on their faces all the time? It's real. Sometimes I notice it, and glance at Kacey to see if she see's it. She mostly doesn't.

Oh, I have stories. What if they are the skewed interpretations of my biased mind? POOOOOOOPPP!!!

grin

How I feel:
Me: "God, I don't want to ever be in love anymore."
God: "Good, because I'm never giving you the chance to, so don't even worry about thinking about it anymore. Find something else to do with your useless life."


How it is:
Me: "God, I don't want to ever be in love anymore."
God: " . . . "


I can't decide if reality or fantasy is happier.