Friday, April 26, 2013

.damn, michael buble'.

.tonight.

.i danced in one of the top rows of the movie theater, with one of my best friends/soon to be former roomates, as we laughed and twirled each other and giggled and michael buble' serenaded us through the ending credits.

.a good memory indeed.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

.words remain.

a frustrated woman, an understatement.
things are getting away from me these days.
slipping through the cracks.
self sabotage in many forms.
ultimately i am a wreck.
i am crying out.
i am screaming for someone to understand.
understand that things still hurt.
it is easy for me to write people off.
it is harder for me to be the one written off.
to be the one forgotten.
to be the one not needed. not thought about.
i am struggling with the fact that i am struggling.
i am bothered by the relevance i give to people.
i am bothered by the fact that i haven't gotten over some things.
i am not good at forgiving.
this is one of the few times i have said that outloud.
i am not good at forgiving.
i want to be.
it's easy for me to never need to speak to someone
whom i gave so much of my love and time and self too.
it is not easy for me to be the person someone else
never needs to speak to.
i'm the one.
i think of what we went through.
those things still hold meaning for me.
when i said the things i said, i meant them.
and it hurts to be the one on the opposite side of things.
how can they not think of me?
how can they not wonder how i'm doing?
how can they not miss speaking to me?
was i really that terrible?
am i so easy to forget?
i don't like being on this side of things.
i don't like realizing what it feels like.

i want to believe i haven't gotten over this because there is no one else to focus on.
but it's been 3 years. 3 years. that's a long time. a long time to still care. i'm an idiot. an idiot for still wishing those things were true. wishing a man would feel those things about me. a dunce. and a fool for wishing them from such a walking disaster of a boy. God's plans are better than mine, and this is no different. it just hurts. it hurts my pride that that is my last point of reference. it hurts my heart to still care about something so seemingly foolish. it honestly hurts. and the letdown of man is repeated.

it's easy to forget.
i'ts not east to be forgotten.