i love her.
mind body and soul.
Showing posts with label my love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my love. Show all posts
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
the fear and the doubt as rosary.
in about
7
hours it'll be about
24
hours left.
i'm excited and scared and worried and doubtful and suspicious and into it.
i only get the bad feelings because of things that have happened in the past. really. no matter what you guys want to say, it's really because of the things that have happened. cheated on twice, i mean. it's the kind of thing that makes defense mechanisms part of the default program. a way of life, you know?
you worry about phone calls and text messages and what they say about you and her and you&her and you guys and him when you're not around. or how things are different when you are.
worriers:
stop. it's not her.
it's me.
i know how you jump on it with a quickness. the whole thing where you think she's not good enough or something. i have a hard time seeing that. in fact, i think that's what makes me so suspicious.
she's gorgeous. she has tattoos. she listens to her own music as well as music i am into. she paints. she writes. she tries to read when she has time, but so do we all. she bends over backwards for me. she's hardworking. she wants a family. she wants to travel.
but who knows. it's the same old story. the huge gray hanging cloud of the past. the things you should never ask, but you do. the guy she met when she came down to florida, that took her months to admit she slept with. the best friend/ex boyfriend who calls just about the right amount of times to be a best friend, but the jealous boyfriend says is too much to just be friends. the way she'll wait until i'm not around to call him.
guilty.
see, but the way it sounds and the way it's written is so much worse than the way it really is. because since when do you call people you miss, and people you love when you're wrapped up in something. we've all been in relationships. we've all been there. i mean, seriously. when you're in a relationship, even when you're doing nothing, you're doing something. and when it's a good, successful relationship, a healthy relationship, that something feels like everything.
i'm not saying anything new here. and maybe there are times when i should pick up the phone but i don't. and maybe i could make a more conscious effort to get online on my days off, or on my phone. but the reality of it is, as much as it may have seemed like i wasn't doing anything to help the problem, i was always trying to come up with a better time, and a better place to get all of the things expected of me in line. i really was.
and it wasn't enough.
so i took a beating for it.
and so did your view of my relationship.
but really, i guess this is becoming more of an open letter than the blog post i was hoping for. sorry.
this is where you say, "whoa."
but seriously, it's not her.
what i really came in here to say was a few things that were going through my head, while i was browsing myspace. just some individual pieces that have nothing to do with each other.
i can't grow a beard.
i liked her before she was trashy.
i'm just saying, she looked pretty innocent.
jesus christ,
what a pretty face.
7
hours it'll be about
24
hours left.
i'm excited and scared and worried and doubtful and suspicious and into it.
i only get the bad feelings because of things that have happened in the past. really. no matter what you guys want to say, it's really because of the things that have happened. cheated on twice, i mean. it's the kind of thing that makes defense mechanisms part of the default program. a way of life, you know?
you worry about phone calls and text messages and what they say about you and her and you&her and you guys and him when you're not around. or how things are different when you are.
worriers:
stop. it's not her.
it's me.
i know how you jump on it with a quickness. the whole thing where you think she's not good enough or something. i have a hard time seeing that. in fact, i think that's what makes me so suspicious.
she's gorgeous. she has tattoos. she listens to her own music as well as music i am into. she paints. she writes. she tries to read when she has time, but so do we all. she bends over backwards for me. she's hardworking. she wants a family. she wants to travel.
but who knows. it's the same old story. the huge gray hanging cloud of the past. the things you should never ask, but you do. the guy she met when she came down to florida, that took her months to admit she slept with. the best friend/ex boyfriend who calls just about the right amount of times to be a best friend, but the jealous boyfriend says is too much to just be friends. the way she'll wait until i'm not around to call him.
guilty.
see, but the way it sounds and the way it's written is so much worse than the way it really is. because since when do you call people you miss, and people you love when you're wrapped up in something. we've all been in relationships. we've all been there. i mean, seriously. when you're in a relationship, even when you're doing nothing, you're doing something. and when it's a good, successful relationship, a healthy relationship, that something feels like everything.
i'm not saying anything new here. and maybe there are times when i should pick up the phone but i don't. and maybe i could make a more conscious effort to get online on my days off, or on my phone. but the reality of it is, as much as it may have seemed like i wasn't doing anything to help the problem, i was always trying to come up with a better time, and a better place to get all of the things expected of me in line. i really was.
and it wasn't enough.
so i took a beating for it.
and so did your view of my relationship.
but really, i guess this is becoming more of an open letter than the blog post i was hoping for. sorry.
this is where you say, "whoa."
but seriously, it's not her.
what i really came in here to say was a few things that were going through my head, while i was browsing myspace. just some individual pieces that have nothing to do with each other.
i can't grow a beard.
i liked her before she was trashy.
i'm just saying, she looked pretty innocent.
jesus christ,
what a pretty face.
Monday, January 22, 2007
revi sangre.
“Tell me you couldn’t live without me.”
She couldn’t.
live without me, that is.
And even with that, it does nothing. Days at a time, this happens. I don’t know how to better myself or my view of myself. I don’t know how to make what I’m doing with my life seem right. Is it the people, the location I’m surrounding myself with? Is it her? Is it me?
I couldn’t sleep last night. That’s why this is the tape that’s playing.
The psyche is militant in its self doubt.
I think about packing it all up. Books, and music, and movies, and clothes. Another trip across the country with my life in the trunk. Surprise, I’m home.
And then there’s…
“Surprise. I’m gone.”
I think it was Brian who said something about taking steps ahead. Anything sideways or backwards, those are the things we’re going to try to avoid. And I’m realizing that there’s been nothing but static lately.
So,
I’m thinking it’s not the people. It’s not the location. It’s the lack of connection with the outside world. The non-fiction stuff. New games. New books. New music. New movies. Something to talk about. If I’m here, really, until July, I think I should genuinely try to at least know what’s going on somewhere else. If I ever really want to get out of here, I should at least give myself a reason to believe that somewhere else could be better than here.
“Let’s bring it back to life.”
That’s what I said. Sometime between Daniel’s 9AM phone call that he locked himself out of the office, and Justine’s 10AM alarm, that’s what I said.
Leave it to today to be the day the internet is down.
That’s that.
I’m thinking, though, what else does anyone else really do? Am I missing out on anything, really, no matter where I go? What can happen there that can’t happen here? And I guess, really, that’s all up to me.
That’s all up to me, though. There’s the New Times, which has a bunch of stuff that happens around South Florida. I choose to ignore it out of convenience, I guess. I could be doing any… ALL of that. And when was the last time I was on AP.net? The PRP? Anything like that?
There’s no excuse.
I guess that’s my new year’s resolution, in a sense. A return to normalcy. We’ll see how that works out. We’ll know in 2008 if I’ve succeeded.
There are some phone calls I have to make, that I should and shouldn’t make.
She couldn’t.
live without me, that is.
And even with that, it does nothing. Days at a time, this happens. I don’t know how to better myself or my view of myself. I don’t know how to make what I’m doing with my life seem right. Is it the people, the location I’m surrounding myself with? Is it her? Is it me?
I couldn’t sleep last night. That’s why this is the tape that’s playing.
The psyche is militant in its self doubt.
I think about packing it all up. Books, and music, and movies, and clothes. Another trip across the country with my life in the trunk. Surprise, I’m home.
And then there’s…
“Surprise. I’m gone.”
I think it was Brian who said something about taking steps ahead. Anything sideways or backwards, those are the things we’re going to try to avoid. And I’m realizing that there’s been nothing but static lately.
So,
I’m thinking it’s not the people. It’s not the location. It’s the lack of connection with the outside world. The non-fiction stuff. New games. New books. New music. New movies. Something to talk about. If I’m here, really, until July, I think I should genuinely try to at least know what’s going on somewhere else. If I ever really want to get out of here, I should at least give myself a reason to believe that somewhere else could be better than here.
“Let’s bring it back to life.”
That’s what I said. Sometime between Daniel’s 9AM phone call that he locked himself out of the office, and Justine’s 10AM alarm, that’s what I said.
Leave it to today to be the day the internet is down.
That’s that.
I’m thinking, though, what else does anyone else really do? Am I missing out on anything, really, no matter where I go? What can happen there that can’t happen here? And I guess, really, that’s all up to me.
That’s all up to me, though. There’s the New Times, which has a bunch of stuff that happens around South Florida. I choose to ignore it out of convenience, I guess. I could be doing any… ALL of that. And when was the last time I was on AP.net? The PRP? Anything like that?
There’s no excuse.
I guess that’s my new year’s resolution, in a sense. A return to normalcy. We’ll see how that works out. We’ll know in 2008 if I’ve succeeded.
There are some phone calls I have to make, that I should and shouldn’t make.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
tongue in teeth.
As I was saying...
I've never felt Love like this before. The kind where every step matters; means something new. Every move you make actually generates some sort of response. Your mistakes (and to a greater extent, your shortcomings) are not just boring ways to keep you status quo. They're reasons to start to watch your steps even more. No one has ever made me watch my steps before. Not until now. I've always called and cried for my downfalls to be pointed out to me. I've begged for them. No one's ever had anything to say. I've always demanded some sort of challenge, whether it be in the form of creative struggle, or an interpersonal dynamic. I've always craved something that dared to kill me if it wouldn't make me stronger.
This much is true:
i've cried more in the past three months or so than i had in a year and a half. i guess in ways, it sounds sadistic. in some ways, i'm sure it just doesn't add up. but this is something that i've been wanting and needing for a long long time. someone who doesn't just roll with the punches... someone who isn't afraid to dish it out sometimes as well. someone whose actions speak volumes. they say, "are you even listening?"
Think about it.
I've always been so damn strong. At least, I always thought I was. Maybe it was just that I had never been put up against any real adversity. There is no way that I can not grow from something like this. And think about any other twenty four year old (knocking on twenty five) that needs to grow up more than I do.
Granted, this is just one angle of my life. This is just Love. There are still layers and layers of things that I want to take on. To fail at. To succeed on. To waste my time on. But this right here, this girl, is someone who can bite back. Someone who can remember. Someone who, really, I have no control over.
Someone who, despite all of this, still Loves me back.
Oh,
Paranoia Agent never got any better.
There's a Fairweather song that I'm putting on Mix #10 that I always forget about, but that means worlds to me.
Still Paradise
Try to pretend that everyone’s not dying here.
See this youth that’s draining out and drying up.
The color fades.
We decay and turn away.
Won’t you try and cover up all our lives.
Don’t you try?
You find yourself falling apart when there’s nothing wrong.
Breathe in breathe out this is the end of me.
Fall in fall out there’s nothing permanent.
But is it possible that things move on while we’re breaking down.
Just hold me close.
Don’t let me go until I’m alright.
Cover us up and walk away.
The bolded piece of that mattered so much to me two Wednesday nights ago, when I went shopping for Christmas gifts. I feel affected by it, touched by it, consoled by it, and guilty of it, all at once. That's how it works for me, anyway. Especially in this relationship I have going on.
I've put such high stakes on Her for one reason or another. And due to this, I'm constantly finding things wrong that aren't even wrong. I'm coming down on myself and therefore affecting the outward trajectory of my wordsemotionsactions. Another new feeling, and direction. I've never felt jealous like this before about the little bullshit that exists. Call it the fact that in my last relationship I was left for another guy because I gave the girl all the trust in the world. Again, though, maybe I was just too distant in that relationship for it to work. Regardless, I get scared to death of the little and big things. I overcompensate. I undercompensate. I think I do everything except be comfortable at my own level.
It's a huge mistake.
But I'm trying.
This might sound too philosophist, but I don't know how else to come across. Nothing is permanent except for yourself. Forget your legacy, because once you're gone, it can be tarnished. Once you're gone, and you've done all that you can that's all the permanence that you can handle. Make yourself the number one priority. Love yourself and allow others to love you only as much as you can feel that you deserve. Don't let anyone in who doesn't deserve you. You really are worth that much. Believe me. Whether you're home in your own town, surrounded by friends, and things and places to experience, and a family that loves you, or if you're in a completely distant city with nothing of interest to note, nothing stimulating within traveling distance, or any love to warm you, there will always be the choices that you make to get you to that next step. Anything and everything that you decide will get you to the next hilltop or valley. If you choose to not choose you have accomplished absolutely nothing.
I made a difficult choice. I left everything I knew to come to a place that I knew nothing about. I took a chance. I'm still taking it. Without it, I would have never found things about myself that I need to know. I never would have found things about others that they didn't even know they could have said. I never would have tested myself. I never would have known real loneliness. That genuine solitude that I needed to have that I thought I completely understood. I never would have known how to balance bills. How to learn to get by.
I never would have known my limits as far as a living partner goes.
This decision is going to last until July. That's when the lease here runs out. I'm not sure where that will lead me. I'm really not completely positive where I'll lay my head at the end of this ticking calendar. But I do know that I'll be here another seven months. In about ten days, I'll be halfway through my Miami stay. And whether I'm coming home to Long Island, or even New York in general, or if I'm going to West Virginia, or the west coast, or Europe, or Asia, that's something I'll probably start thinking about in May or April of 2007.
I'm sort of floating right now.
You guys knew that about me. Come on.
So, me and Rahul ended up talking for about an hour and forty five minutes last week. It was genuine quality. I loved it.
I'm calling Brian tonight, some time after nine.
I want to try to get in touch with Dave to hangout again sometime before Christmas.
Kerry called a couple times this weekend, but I haven't had a chance to get back at her. Maybe tonight after Brian.
Still nothing from Carissa.
It hurts.
We spent a week together. And then some.
And then, silence.
Um,
but we've been playing Paper Mario for Gamecube. It's a solid RPG. No garbage, nothing drawn out beyond where it should be. Just Mario doing mostly Mario-esque things in paper form. A lot of clever puzzles are strewn about. Plus, there are a ton of awesome Mario universe characters drawn in a new art form (nothing new to the Mario-verse; I mean, how many different iterations of Goombas have we seen?), my favorites being the different kinds of Bob-Ombs they've been throwing into the mix, a Koopa Troopa decked out in a spiky knight uniform, and the softened up Buzzy Beetle. And the boss characters do not disappoint.
New Nas track is out of control. Hit the myspace for that.
I finished reading Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. It was definitely a good, tight sci-fi novel. It felt more like a short story, though, the way things didn't pan out to huge proportions. It was pretty much a bounty hunter carrying through his missions, and, as sci-fi always does, it touched upon several different real-life problems in its own way (morality, religion) via the book's characters, and world. It was a good read, and one that you can no doubt get through in a week if you were really to try. It's worth it.
I'm currently reading Bradley Hathaway's All the Hits So Far But Don't Expect Too Much: Poetry, Prose & Other Sundry Items. The kid apparently tours with bands, and does spoken word poetry. The big problem with him is he doesn't have a whole ton of talent. I know I have more. At least, yo, let me break it down like this. Reading his stuff doesn't come across like he has any skill. Maybe it's the way he speaks it, maybe it's the way his stage presence steals you. I'm just not sure. But he just isn't that good with his words.
This is the sort of thing that blows me away.
In my mind, I have a lot of stuff to offer people hungry for verbiage.
And then this kid has a book published.
And has toured.
Ambition/Inspiration/Initiative: 45,000
Me: 0
I've never felt Love like this before. The kind where every step matters; means something new. Every move you make actually generates some sort of response. Your mistakes (and to a greater extent, your shortcomings) are not just boring ways to keep you status quo. They're reasons to start to watch your steps even more. No one has ever made me watch my steps before. Not until now. I've always called and cried for my downfalls to be pointed out to me. I've begged for them. No one's ever had anything to say. I've always demanded some sort of challenge, whether it be in the form of creative struggle, or an interpersonal dynamic. I've always craved something that dared to kill me if it wouldn't make me stronger.
This much is true:
i've cried more in the past three months or so than i had in a year and a half. i guess in ways, it sounds sadistic. in some ways, i'm sure it just doesn't add up. but this is something that i've been wanting and needing for a long long time. someone who doesn't just roll with the punches... someone who isn't afraid to dish it out sometimes as well. someone whose actions speak volumes. they say, "are you even listening?"
Think about it.
I've always been so damn strong. At least, I always thought I was. Maybe it was just that I had never been put up against any real adversity. There is no way that I can not grow from something like this. And think about any other twenty four year old (knocking on twenty five) that needs to grow up more than I do.
Granted, this is just one angle of my life. This is just Love. There are still layers and layers of things that I want to take on. To fail at. To succeed on. To waste my time on. But this right here, this girl, is someone who can bite back. Someone who can remember. Someone who, really, I have no control over.
Someone who, despite all of this, still Loves me back.
Oh,
Paranoia Agent never got any better.
There's a Fairweather song that I'm putting on Mix #10 that I always forget about, but that means worlds to me.
Try to pretend that everyone’s not dying here.
See this youth that’s draining out and drying up.
The color fades.
We decay and turn away.
Won’t you try and cover up all our lives.
Don’t you try?
You find yourself falling apart when there’s nothing wrong.
Breathe in breathe out this is the end of me.
Fall in fall out there’s nothing permanent.
But is it possible that things move on while we’re breaking down.
Just hold me close.
Don’t let me go until I’m alright.
Cover us up and walk away.
The bolded piece of that mattered so much to me two Wednesday nights ago, when I went shopping for Christmas gifts. I feel affected by it, touched by it, consoled by it, and guilty of it, all at once. That's how it works for me, anyway. Especially in this relationship I have going on.
I've put such high stakes on Her for one reason or another. And due to this, I'm constantly finding things wrong that aren't even wrong. I'm coming down on myself and therefore affecting the outward trajectory of my wordsemotionsactions. Another new feeling, and direction. I've never felt jealous like this before about the little bullshit that exists. Call it the fact that in my last relationship I was left for another guy because I gave the girl all the trust in the world. Again, though, maybe I was just too distant in that relationship for it to work. Regardless, I get scared to death of the little and big things. I overcompensate. I undercompensate. I think I do everything except be comfortable at my own level.
It's a huge mistake.
But I'm trying.
This might sound too philosophist, but I don't know how else to come across. Nothing is permanent except for yourself. Forget your legacy, because once you're gone, it can be tarnished. Once you're gone, and you've done all that you can that's all the permanence that you can handle. Make yourself the number one priority. Love yourself and allow others to love you only as much as you can feel that you deserve. Don't let anyone in who doesn't deserve you. You really are worth that much. Believe me. Whether you're home in your own town, surrounded by friends, and things and places to experience, and a family that loves you, or if you're in a completely distant city with nothing of interest to note, nothing stimulating within traveling distance, or any love to warm you, there will always be the choices that you make to get you to that next step. Anything and everything that you decide will get you to the next hilltop or valley. If you choose to not choose you have accomplished absolutely nothing.
I made a difficult choice. I left everything I knew to come to a place that I knew nothing about. I took a chance. I'm still taking it. Without it, I would have never found things about myself that I need to know. I never would have found things about others that they didn't even know they could have said. I never would have tested myself. I never would have known real loneliness. That genuine solitude that I needed to have that I thought I completely understood. I never would have known how to balance bills. How to learn to get by.
I never would have known my limits as far as a living partner goes.
This decision is going to last until July. That's when the lease here runs out. I'm not sure where that will lead me. I'm really not completely positive where I'll lay my head at the end of this ticking calendar. But I do know that I'll be here another seven months. In about ten days, I'll be halfway through my Miami stay. And whether I'm coming home to Long Island, or even New York in general, or if I'm going to West Virginia, or the west coast, or Europe, or Asia, that's something I'll probably start thinking about in May or April of 2007.
I'm sort of floating right now.
You guys knew that about me. Come on.
So, me and Rahul ended up talking for about an hour and forty five minutes last week. It was genuine quality. I loved it.
I'm calling Brian tonight, some time after nine.
I want to try to get in touch with Dave to hangout again sometime before Christmas.
Kerry called a couple times this weekend, but I haven't had a chance to get back at her. Maybe tonight after Brian.
Still nothing from Carissa.
It hurts.
We spent a week together. And then some.
And then, silence.
Um,
but we've been playing Paper Mario for Gamecube. It's a solid RPG. No garbage, nothing drawn out beyond where it should be. Just Mario doing mostly Mario-esque things in paper form. A lot of clever puzzles are strewn about. Plus, there are a ton of awesome Mario universe characters drawn in a new art form (nothing new to the Mario-verse; I mean, how many different iterations of Goombas have we seen?), my favorites being the different kinds of Bob-Ombs they've been throwing into the mix, a Koopa Troopa decked out in a spiky knight uniform, and the softened up Buzzy Beetle. And the boss characters do not disappoint.
New Nas track is out of control. Hit the myspace for that.
I finished reading Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. It was definitely a good, tight sci-fi novel. It felt more like a short story, though, the way things didn't pan out to huge proportions. It was pretty much a bounty hunter carrying through his missions, and, as sci-fi always does, it touched upon several different real-life problems in its own way (morality, religion) via the book's characters, and world. It was a good read, and one that you can no doubt get through in a week if you were really to try. It's worth it.
I'm currently reading Bradley Hathaway's All the Hits So Far But Don't Expect Too Much: Poetry, Prose & Other Sundry Items. The kid apparently tours with bands, and does spoken word poetry. The big problem with him is he doesn't have a whole ton of talent. I know I have more. At least, yo, let me break it down like this. Reading his stuff doesn't come across like he has any skill. Maybe it's the way he speaks it, maybe it's the way his stage presence steals you. I'm just not sure. But he just isn't that good with his words.
This is the sort of thing that blows me away.
In my mind, I have a lot of stuff to offer people hungry for verbiage.
And then this kid has a book published.
And has toured.
Ambition/Inspiration/Initiative: 45,000
Me: 0
Thursday, December 07, 2006
the deadlock.
Paranoia Agent isn't the anime I hoped that it would be. At least, it hasn't established itself in the first two minutes as anything I'd want to pay attention to. I'm speed typing away on my sidekick, though, while I watch the end of the second episode. There are some cool ideas at work, visually. But the only characters that they've established are peripheral; ones that pop in sporadically. I know them more than I know the ones who are taking up most of the screen time. This is the kind of thing that steers me away from the genre. Sometimes, it's better to just watch television. While this medium has a TON of potential, it doesn't fully represent itself the way I know it could. I'm just about ready to take this and the next volume back without watching the rest.
What it seems to me is the entire series is a bunch of short stories that are tied together very loosely due to a storyline that cycles in the city.
I'm trying out Desert Punx next, because the imagery on that seemed interesting. Post-apocalyptic and desolate, with lots of gasmasks. Sounds like a good place to start.
I watched Girl, Interrupted the other night.
It brought me places.
It's kind of bizarre to think about contact, and lack thereof, and the thought that it could be everyone's fault, or my fault, or their fault, or no one's fault at all. Contact. It's like Team Miscommunication continues and continues without us even saying a word.
I'm going downstairs to get a snapple. I think. As a matter of fact, I'm walking to 7-11 to get a snapple. I want to use up more time.
-- and it isn't until now that I realize what David meant about Snapple being readily available up north.
I got water instead.
Love is hard. Just like Art is hard. Just like Creating is hard. The way this Love is, anyway. And I'm not sure if it's Justine, or Me, or Miami, or the fact that neither of us is Home. But it's choppier than I remember. A more involved beginning than I remember. More intense in every way than I've ever remembered. It's just new, I guess. Someone different, and a completely unpracticed way of doing things. That's the way it should always be. Relationships and matters of the heart aren't like math classes. There is no cumilative knowledge. Everything you learn is about yourself. And you can only hope to be able to use what you've learned. But nothing has ever been the way I've remembered it before. Nothing has ever been the same.
I've never been able to say,
"I remember this part."
Even when everything was happening over the phone, again. It was still all brand new.
Rahul plans to call tonight.
Brian called me Sunday.
I've actually seen Dave twice.
Kerry called Thursday.
Kailyn still makes frequent contact through several different airwaves.
Carissa is nonexistant.
Nicole and I shared some huge e-mails.
I miss Anthony, but we try.
The people that matter,
they're all trying.
What it seems to me is the entire series is a bunch of short stories that are tied together very loosely due to a storyline that cycles in the city.
I'm trying out Desert Punx next, because the imagery on that seemed interesting. Post-apocalyptic and desolate, with lots of gasmasks. Sounds like a good place to start.
I watched Girl, Interrupted the other night.
It brought me places.
It's kind of bizarre to think about contact, and lack thereof, and the thought that it could be everyone's fault, or my fault, or their fault, or no one's fault at all. Contact. It's like Team Miscommunication continues and continues without us even saying a word.
I'm going downstairs to get a snapple. I think. As a matter of fact, I'm walking to 7-11 to get a snapple. I want to use up more time.
-- and it isn't until now that I realize what David meant about Snapple being readily available up north.
I got water instead.
Love is hard. Just like Art is hard. Just like Creating is hard. The way this Love is, anyway. And I'm not sure if it's Justine, or Me, or Miami, or the fact that neither of us is Home. But it's choppier than I remember. A more involved beginning than I remember. More intense in every way than I've ever remembered. It's just new, I guess. Someone different, and a completely unpracticed way of doing things. That's the way it should always be. Relationships and matters of the heart aren't like math classes. There is no cumilative knowledge. Everything you learn is about yourself. And you can only hope to be able to use what you've learned. But nothing has ever been the way I've remembered it before. Nothing has ever been the same.
I've never been able to say,
"I remember this part."
Even when everything was happening over the phone, again. It was still all brand new.
Rahul plans to call tonight.
Brian called me Sunday.
I've actually seen Dave twice.
Kerry called Thursday.
Kailyn still makes frequent contact through several different airwaves.
Carissa is nonexistant.
Nicole and I shared some huge e-mails.
I miss Anthony, but we try.
The people that matter,
they're all trying.
(to be continued)
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