5/21/2006

Hindsight . . . you are such a bitch sometimes

This past week I have had several flashes of hindsight . . . and they are really starting to piss me off. Why can't my foresight be good enough to catch these things before they become past events and possibilities that piss me off? I was going to write about these various flashes of hindsight, but most of them are either personal in nature (too personal to reveal to just anyone who checks my AIM profile and blog) or concern individuals that I would rather confront in person about them (no, not you . . . or you . . . or you either damnit!)

So, having said that, things are pretty craptastic right now. I am back working at the drive-in again because the stupid companies I applied too are taking to long to respond and I need money now. My little brother is having complications from his leg surgery, and the doctors don't know what is wrong. My parents are wearing themselves out trying to take care of my little brother all the time and work. When you add all of that together, and then add flashes of hindsight (and confirmation of former flashes of insight in a couple cases) that make me want to slam my head into a wall and call myself an idiot (both for the hindsight and the slamming my head into the wall thing) . . . life is crap.

There are some good things that have happened recently though. I saw an old friend, and she and I had an hour long conversation catching up on old times . . . so that was fun. I had to run to campus on Friday to pick up my last Security paycheck, and that allowed me to see JP and Christine one last time before they both disappear. I found some old CD's that I burned from my old computer that had music I thought I lost on them.

Looking at those two lists, I realize that the good things are all paltry and minor when compared to the bad stuff.

Eh, life's rough, so I better get myself a damned helmet.

“Courage and cheerfulness will not only carry you over the rough places in life, but will enable you to bring comfort and help to the weak-hearted and will console you in the sad hours” - William Osler

I often wonder: suppose we could begin life over again, knowing what we were doing? Suppose we could use one life, already ended, as a sort of rough draft for another? I think that every one of us would try, more than anything else, not to repeat himself.

5/17/2006

While I was out mowing the yard this morning I got to thinking about how much I really love my home. Sure, it is old, the roof is falling apart, and every once and a while we find another stupid thing that the builders did (you should have seen some of the wiring when we moved in . . . . wow), but I love it.

Out mowing the lawn, battling the cherry tree, the raspberry bushes, and the rose bushes, I marvelled at how beautiful my yard really is. Right now we have some lilies, yellow roses, and columbine blooming, and it is lovely. When you add in the lilac bushes we have to the side of the house, the aroma of flowers around my house is amazing.

Soon, the cherries will start turning red, the red and black raspberries will start growing, the currants will appear, and the white, red, and pink roses will start blooming. Shortly afterwards, the tigerlilies will bloom and my yard will be a riot of colors and scents.

Towards the end of the summer, the peaches on the peach tree will begin to ripen and add another tantalizing scent to the mixture.

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Now, back in my room I look around at the cozy arrangement of furniture, the hundreds of books, and various trophies, gifts, and other memory inducing objects, and I realize that this is my sanctuary within the sanctuary that is my house.

I love my family, but at times they can get to be a little too much and I just need my space. So every night between 9 and 10 I retreat back to my room and I introspect. There is really nothing I like more in this world than to just curl up in a place where I feel truly comfortable and reading with some music playing in the background. . . Ok, very little that I like more. . . Heh, heh! Oh, Right!

Ok, now that I have the Quagmire out of my system . . . I really do love this place, and it isn't just because my family and dogs are here. This house has been the place where, for the last eight years, I could retreat to when things got rough. I knew I could just collapse in any room and be surrounded by good memories and comforting objects. There is something about a home that justs makes you feel good inside.

5/15/2006

Have you ever had a revelation? Not an epiphany mind you but a revelation.

I had a couple of them tonight. It started when I was writing up a blog post. It was a long rant about things that really aren't important to this post, but suffice to say it was a rather heated rant. I finished the rant and started re-reading for typos and grammar problems . . . and I realized something.

I didn't really feel all that strongly about things I had written in the rant. I wrote it just for the benefit of someone who I am pretty sure would be reading it. No, I am not going to say who that someone was, and those of you who are reading it will probably guess the wrong someone.

So I scrapped that blog for that reason and made myself a solumn promise.

I will write this blog for me and only for me. I will write what I feel like writing when I feel like writing. I won't write this for the benefit of others.

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Now on to the blog post I originally thought up earlier today to post.

Every man has one certain thing that gets them about women. Some men are ass men. Some like small feet. Some guys judge women by their haircolor first. One of my buddies is a self proclaimed "Breast Man". One of my friends likes nothing more than the shape of a woman's legs.

Personally, there are three things that really get me - Eyes, Smile, and Laughter.

I can lose myself in a woman's eyes sooner than you can say "Wow." It doesn't matter what color those eyes might be (although I have always been a sucker for green). Eyes are one of the portals into the soul, and if those eyes show that particular sparkle that tells me someone is a good person with a good heart and a quick mind . . . I am as good as gone.

While a woman's eyes can draw me in and keep me trapped for hours on end, a woman's smile can shoot like an arrow straight into my heart. Nothing plucks my heartstrings more than a warm smile from a lovely lady. A smile is also reflected in the eyes of the woman smiling, and that just makes smiles even better. One of the main reasons I walk around with a smile on my face is because I know that smiles are contagious and I am always hoping that just one woman will catch it.

And finally laughter . . . the sound of laughter is a sweet as the best music in the world. True laughter - whether it be a pealing sound like dozens of bells, a belly laugh that is lower than a normal speaking voice, or full of squeaks and snorts - can warm any heart (even if some don't show it). A good laugh can turn a horrible day into a decent day, and if you do it enough, that decent day could become a great day.

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Ah, so now the world knows my weaknesses, but then again anyone who knows me probably already knows all about them as it is.

Now to end with a few quotes.

“Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.”

“Never frown, because you never know when someone is falling in love with your smile.”

“Laughter is but a frown turned upside down”


Those are some good ones, but I think my favorite of the night is this one:

“Laughter is day, and sobriety is night; a smile is the twilight that hovers gently between both, more bewitching than either.” - Henry Ward Beecher

5/14/2006

Hasta La Bye Bye iTunes!

Well, I'm running down the road
tryin' to loosen my load
I've got seven women on
my mind,
Four that wanna own me,
Two that wanna stone me,
One says she's a friend of mine
Take It easy, take it easy
Don't let the sound of your own wheels
drive you crazy
Lighten up while you still can
don't even try to understand
Just find a place to make your stand
and take it easy


This was the song that started as I sat down to write this post. Music has been odd for me today. I go out to get my mother a Mother's Day card this afternoon, and the song "She Will be Loved" by Maroon Five plays not once but twice (two different stations) while I am driving. This wouldn't be odd if I had gone to Champaign and back. That would be over an hour of time in the car. The thing is, I was only going to Gilman and back which is maybe 10 minutes in the car (15 if you count the time while I was stopped at McDonalds getting myself a delicious McChicken for lunch, but I didn't listen to the radio while in the drive-through). So once on the way there, and once more on the way back the song played. Mere coincidence I tell myself.

So I get home and go upstairs to help paint my little brother's room (he can't go up the stairs right now, so my parents decided to take this opportunity to completely redo the place). Since I was the only one painting at that point and my room is right next door, I turn on iTunes and crank the volume. I cheerily sing along to the first song ("Take it Easy" coincidentally), but I stop when the second song starts. "She Will be Loved" was playing on my iTunes . . . I didn't even remember that I had the song on my computer. I continue painting for a while as my iTunes gets itself into one of its "Jason LeVasseur/Michael Buble" ruts and plays 6 songs by one or the other of those two in a row.

Well, the day continues and I almost forget about the odd prevalence of certain songs and artists. . . until I sit down this evening to check my e-mail and such. As always, I opened iTunes for some background noise while I was at the computer, and what did my ears hear? That is right, "She Will Be Loved" regaled me again. Now, "She Will Be Loved" is a great song, but four times in one day is a little much for me.

A little disgruntled, but not willing to skip the song for fear of what would play next, I start chatting with a Stupid Crazy Fool (you know who you are), and load up his blog. Funnily enough, his blog today was also about music - Jason LeVasseur music to be specific. His blog mentioned three specific songs, "What is This? Love?", "Don't Wanna Fall", and "Let's Just Suppose", and as soon as "She Will Be Loved" ended, my iTunes began playing "Don't Wanna Fall". I laughed and told him as much.

We continued chatting and the song ended, only to be followed by "Tattoo" by Life in General (Jason LeVasseur's band). I growled a little because it seemed that my iTunes was in a "Jason LeVasseur Love Song" mood and I wasn't in that kind of a mood. Well, two more love songs later - "That Face" from the Producers and "The More I See You" by Michael Buble - iTunes breaks out of its cycle with "Hermaphrodite" by Stephen Lynch.

I then went for a walk and decided that I wanted to listen to some comedy while I was out walking in the rain. Grabbing a diskman, some headphones, and what I thought was a comedy mix CD, I head out. Three blocks from my house I pop on the headphones and hit play on the diskman. . . and Jason LeVasseur starts singing in my ear.

Apparently I grabbed one of my Love Song mix CD's instead of one of my Comedy mixes (I really should color code or label them all). Deciding I was too far away to just turn back because I grabbed the wrong CD, I just stuck with it, and I am glad I did. There was a great song on there that I haven't heard in a while. It is a great song about a true love, and I almost cry every time I listen to it.

"Where've You Been" by Kathy Matea

Claire had all but given up,
When she and Edwin fell in love.
She touched his face and shook her head,
In disbelief, she sighed and said:
"In many dreams I've held you near,
"Now, at last, you're really here.

"Where've you been?
"I've looked for you forever and a day.
"Where've you been?
"I'm just not myself when you're away."

He asked her for her hand for life,
And she became a salesman's wife.
He was home each night by eight,
But one stormy evening, he was late.
Her frightened tears fell to the floor,
Until his key turned in the door.

"Where've you been?
"I've looked for you forever and a day.
"Where've you been?
"I'm just not myself when you're away."

They'd never spent a night apart,
For sixty years, she heard him snore.
Now they're in a hospital,
In separate beds on different floors.

Claire soon lost her memory,
Forgot the names of family.
She never spoke a word again,
Then one day, they wheeled him in.
He held her hand and stroked her hair,
In a fragile voice she said:

"Where've you been?
"I've looked for you forever and a day.
"Where've you been?
"I'm just not myself when you're away."
"No, I'm just not myself when you're away."


When I hear that song I think two things. First, I think that I would kill for that kind of a love in my life. Someone who cares about me so much that they worry when I am minutes late, and who will be by my side throughout my entire life.

Second, I am always amazed that I have actually known a few couples like that in my life, most notably my parents and grandparents. Before my parents both got cell phones they would worry terribly whenever the other was even slightly late; it never actually got to the point of crying when I was around, but that may have been for my benefit. With my grandparents, I say that they are like that because my grandfather truly has not been the same since my grandmother died this past summer. He has moved into a nursing home and grown extremely distant. He refuses to do anything but sit in his room and watch the news, he barely eats, and he never talks about anything but my grandmother.

But I digress. Back to the music stories.

So after a two mile walk in the rain, a shower, and some Mythbusters with my parents (I absolutely love that show), I head up to my room to try to get some sleep early. Well, obviously that didn't work and I am sitting at my computer again. Unable to sleep, I turned on iTunes and started typing this up. When the second song my iTunes played (right after "Take it Easy") was "You Don't Know Me" by Michael Buble, I got fed up, and I have now transferred all of my music files to RealJukebox . . . and in the half hour it has been playing on Shuffle, I have heard an actual random assortment of songs. No more imbalance between the number of love songs in the library and the number of songs played. I now am truly listening to random music and I love it. I have already heard three songs that I haven't heard in months because iTunes is a sappy bitch.

So, I have now broken free of iTunes after months of enduring it and complaining about it. I found a way to change the format of the files back to their original versions and out of the crappy iTunes format.

So I am now done bitching about iTunes. I may bitch about music in the future, but never again about iTunes.

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On a few completely different notes . . .

I went to the doctor a couple days ago and the spot on my cheek was nothing. . . in fact it was a scab that fell off the next morning and I made fun of my parents mercilously for it.

Unfortunately, my little brother's recovery isn't going quite as well as we thought it was, and it looks like he may have to rely on his wheelchair a lot more in the future than he did previously.

Also, did you ever say or write anything because your mind was completely and utterly set in one way . . . only to change your mind a week later? Well, I have been feeling that way recently. Eh, that's just life I guess. Circumstances change, things happen, and you change your mind. Nothing you can do about it.

Now I am going to end this post with a quote. I am thinking about making it a tradition. I love quotes, and as a hopeless romantic many of my quotes are about love, but oh well.

Time goes by so fast, people go in and out of your life. You must never miss the opportunity to tell these people how much they mean to you.

5/11/2006

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Love . . . this phantasmagoric emotion is perhaps the most variable and misunderstood of all human emotions. Love has produced quotes that touch our soul, make us weep, make us happy when the world seems dark, and show us that we are all connected through similar experiences.

"We all want to fall in love. Why? Because that experience makes us feel completely alive. Where every sense is heightened, every emotion is magnified, our everyday reality is shattered and we are flying into the heavens. It may only last a moment, and hour, an afternoon. But that doesn't diminish its value. Because we are left with memories that we treasure for the rest of our lives."


"Love is when the woman of your dreams becomes a reality and sleep stops being a priority."


“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.” – Neil Gaiman


While we are connected by the common thread of love, we must realize that love comes in all shapes, sizes, and flavors. No two people feel love in the same way no matter what kind of love it is. No two mothers love their children in the same way. Two brothers can love each other in completely different ways. Two men will love a woman in ways that seem polar opposites, and yet all of these things are called love. What is love? How one defines love tells a lot about them, so I feel like defining the various types of love I can think of.

Familial Love - This love is the love felt between members of a family for one another. Personally I think that this is probably the second most powerful form of love. There are three people in this world that I can honestly say I would give my life to save without any second thoughts, and those three people are my parents and brother. I have felt this love since my childhood, and every time I am home it seems to increase. I am not ashamed to say that I cried today when I saw my little brother walking without a bent back and limping gait.

Parental Love - As I said earlier, Familial love is in my opinion the second most powerful form of love. Well, Parental love, which is similar, is what I believe is truly the most powerful. While I currently have never experienced this love personally, I can honestly say I have been a recipient of this love. Every once and a while my parents will do something that shows me how much they care about me and I am humbled by the scope of that love.

Friendly Love - Ok, so the name for this one sucks, but I couldn't think of another word to describe it. This is the love that is shared between friends. There is nothing romantic or sexual about this love. Connected to the way you feel when you are around your close friends, the people you can just be yourself around, this love is a special thing that far too few people in this world actually experience.

Romantic Love - One of the greatest concepts to come out of Medieval England, romantic love took the act of loving someone and turned it into an art form. In romantic love mere words are not enough; songs, poetry, paintings, and sculptures have all been used to express romantic love.

“There are two sorts of romantics: those who love, and those who love the adventure of loving”


The second of those two people is the true romantic lover. Romantic love isn't about just your feelings. Romantic love is how you express those feelings, how you dive down into those feelings and let them take you to the heights and depths of the human condition. (Can you tell who is a hopeless romantic?)

"True" Love - This love is one of the most common in the world today. Note that the word True is in quotes. This love is the lust that most people feel and call true love. Far too many relationships and even marriages in today's society are built on this false love. Lust is a fleeting and untrue feeling that should not be relied upon when making any decisions. If people learned to separate lust from love, the number of divorces in this world would plummet astronomically. This "love" is also the foundation of most crushes and high school relationships.

True Love - Ah, the real thing. Real true love is perhaps one of the most sought after things by any human being. Having never experienced it personally, I have to rely on books, songs, quotes, and stories passed down to me by family members. If true love is everything that the books and songs have said it is, then true love is the ultimate drug. True love takes love to a level that is unsurpassed in human experience. Through the eyes of someone in true love, their partner is and always will be the most amazing human being that has ever lived. If someone is in the throes of true love, they spend every day asking how they got so lucky and begging whatever higher power is out there to allow it to continue.

Well, it is time for me to make fun of myself by talking about . . .

Love of the Martyr - This love is all to common and annoying . . . even to those who exhibit it. In this type of love, the indivual in question keeps his feelings to himself and a few friends, allowing it to consume it from the inside. When he finally does tell others about his feelings, he complains that they aren't being listened to and spents hours and hours ranting to his friends that things aren't the way they should be. When his friends don't pity him as much as he feels they should, he ends up sulking by himself. After a while though, he realizes that he is being a whiny little bitch and moves on with his life.

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On a side note, I went to the doctor's office today to have that mole looked at, and it is nothing.

I also had a nice long conversation with my mother about our little altercation the other day. After giving her an overview of the situation (I didn't give any names or mention where she might have known any of the individuals involved), she just looked at me and shook her head. Her exact words to me afterwards were, "George you have to be the nicest person ever in the world and it is going to be your undoing one of these days. I know that I would never have been able to hold myself back as long as you did. Don't worry though, the right girl is out there somewhere and she won't let anything get between the two of you. . . ever."

I love my mom.

5/08/2006

Home Sweet Solitude

Well, here I am back at home. Sunday night was excrutiatingly lonely on campus. I never realized how many people I only talk to when we are at college - even if those conversations are only over AIM. I started wandering around campus at about 3:30 in the morning in an attempt to get my mind off everyone who I won't see for months, but all that did was remind me that there was nary a soul on campus. I truly almost cried when I walked by the completely empty Sparling lot.

So I left campus at about noon on Monday. I thought all I needed to boost my spirits was a healthy dose of friends, family, and dogs (I love my puppies!), but unfortunately, I was wrong. I got home, unpacked, played with the dogs, and sat down to watch TV. Everything seemed to be going fine until my mom got home. The first thing out of her mouth after "Hi George, can you help me unload the car and get your brother inside?" was "How's your love life going?"

I snapped, and I don't really know why. I have never snapped at my mother, but something about the way she asked it, and the fact that she didn't even ask how I was first, just made me mad. I actually snarled at her, "It is going like shit. Thanks for asking."

Well, ever since then I have been sitting in my room cleaning, doing some unpacking, and watching TV. Dinner's conversations were somewhat uncomfortable, but after my mother and I told each other that we were sorry, things lightened up.

Bah, enough about that. I was just hot, tired, and dirty. After a nice hot shower where I never had to worry about another guy walking in and openning the curtain (god I hate that about dorms), I felt much better.

Sitting here in my room, I find it funny that the only people I am having actual conversations with are those who I haven't seen much over the past week. Hell, they aren't even the people I miss right now. I have stunted conversations with people I miss, but they all seem to trail off as they approach topics I just don't feel like talking about anymore. If you have read my previous post, you will know that there is something I don't want to think or talk about, but someone seems to think it is the only thing I want to talk about (not mad at you bud, just a little annoyed).

As of right now, I have decided that I have done enough bitching about life. I will probably change my mind at a later date and come back here bitching like a Frenchman at an American movie (You know, ze French film industry is so much more sophisticated than ze American industry), but for right now I am going to shove it.


Now I am going to play a variation of Stewie Griffin's "Compliment Sandwich" game. I call it the "Good News Sandwich".
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Happy news, my little brother is recovering well from his recent leg surgery. He should be walking unassisted within a couple weeks.

My grandparents are still the crochety annoying loons that they have always been, and I love them for it even if they do drive everyone insane. My grandmother had surgery this morning and my grandfather absolutely forbade my mother from visiting . . . Why you ask . . . Because it would be a waste of gas. She is fine now, but I still find it hilarious

My parents may end up paying me good money to stay home and watch my little brother over the summer. This would mean that not only would I not have to get a crappy job, but I would be getting paid to stay home and hang around my house.

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One piece of possible bad news, I have a small mole that has developed on my cheek over the past few weeks. Given the history of skin cancer in my family, my dad is freaking out and insisting that I go to the doctor. Wish me luck.

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More good news, my older dog is acting much more active and lively than she was when I was home for Christmas (god, that was the last time I was home for more than a few hours at a time).

I just weighed myself for the first time since Christmas, and I have lost 30 pounds in the past 4 months. (Damnit everyone is so focused on Mothball's body eating itself that they haven't noticed mine doing the same thing yet! Oh well, when I get back to school in August and look like an Etheopian . . . then they will notice.)

My parents just reminded me that they have a free week at one of any of hundreds of timeshares/hotel things that needs to be used at some point before December, and the two of them probably won't be able to use it at any point. Therefore, they told me that I could use it and have a nice little mini-vacation with some friends anywhere I could get reservations. I have not yet looked too deeply into this, but it should be good stuff. I will call people if anything pans out.

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Well, that is pretty much all the good and bad stuff I can think of. Now I am going to try to go to bed early. Hopefully noone wakes me and I get a full 12 hours of sleep in one night . . . . yeah right.

5/04/2006

. . .

As I sit in my room watching everyone leave for the summer and I can't seem to bring myself to care about most of them. Sure, I am going to miss several of the seniors who will be graduating on Sunday, but most of the people here I can't work up any emotion over right now. There is only one person who really is generating any strong feelings in me right now, and I am not even sure what those emotions are.

This hollow feeling in my chest is unlike any I have felt before. Maybe it is because I have no clue how you feel about me, and you don't seem to want to talk about it at all. Maybe it is because when I poured my heart out to you, you responded by looking away from me and saying, "I don't know how to respond to that." Maybe I just worry that when I am not around everyone makes the same jokes about me that are made about one of our other friends. Maybe I am just scared that everyone is actually upset with me for saying something to you about how I feel when you are still in a pseudo-relationship with another guy. Maybe it is because I know that no matter how many times he screws up he will have your heart in a way I probably never will . . . I don't really know anything anymore.

A part of me wants to take the advice I was given last night and follow it. A part of me wants to wall up my heart behind an impenetrable facade and act like a complete ass, because that is what far too many women in this world seem to flock to. Maybe if I was as cold and unfeeling as the "cool" people in this world I wouldn't have this ache in my chest anymore.

But I can't feel that way. I don't know how. My emotions don't just have an off switch. I can't be an asshole. I have tried it and failed miserably.

But the thing is, I can't be mad at you, I know I have no right to be mad at you. I can't and don't expect anything from you, but I want things from you . . . I want to know how you feel. Even if you tell me that you have absolutely no feelings for me and never want to see me again, I want to hear the words. I want to put some finality on this entire situation, but I can't bring myself to say it to your face.

When I write these things down I can be eloquent and use flowery language to describe my feelings, but as soon as I see you the words flee me. I can barely stumble through a sentence about how I feel. If we are talking about unimportant things I can ramble on for hours, but the moment I start trying to talk about the words that my heart is dying to say, I become a mute. Why? What is it about you that does this to me? How can I overcome this? How can I explain to you that all I want in this world at the moment is for you to be happy? Why can't I bring myself to tell you in person that every time you make fun of yourself and seem to believe the horrible things you say I want to take you in my arms and tell you how wonderful you are until you actually believe it yourself? Why can't I bring myself to say to you "He is going to break your heart in a way I don't think I ever could, and you don't deserve that"?

I try to talk to you, but I don't know what to say. I am afraid you don't want me to say anything. So I don't. But inside of me there are words waiting to come out. And tell you how I feel - like how I miss you. And how I love you despite my broken heart. And how I need you in my life. And especially how much I want you. But those words may forver stay in my heart - locked inside. Sometimes I wonder if there are words locked inside you too ... but I'll never know.


At this point, that quote sums up how I feel better than I can myself. I only wish I knew what to do about you. I wish I knew how to make myself stop feeling for once in my life. I wish I knew how to gather up my thoughts well enough to articulate how I feel . . . but I shouldn't wish . . . as they say in the musical "Wicked":
Wishing only wounds the heart.


So I won't wish. I won't think about you. I won't dream about you. I won't call you. I won't see you. Maybe this is just lust and over the summer it will dissipate. If not, well, I will deal with that if and when it comes to it. For now though you are gone. I have said my goodbye's to you, and I wish you happiness in everything you do.

Now, I am going to sum up this post with another quote.

Until this moment, I never understood how hard it was to lose something you never had.