10:36 pm - Monday, Dec. 23, 2002
Song: Victoria - John Mayer
�She said, "I might not be seeing him soon,
Got a few things I've been waiting to do." -Victoria, John Mayer
I need a step back, or maybe a step closer, but I�m ready to run.
I�m unsure about everything I am supposed to feel and instead it�s running through and out of me. Like the rain they tell me of at the end of American Beauty, but the rain doesn�t pour through me, it rebounds off the skin, and only with a camera could I see beauty in a plastic bag.
And maybe I don�t make any sense, but it�s cleansing me somehow not to understand my own words.
I want to draw on things with red sharpie and look at the different ways of it. Because what is the color red really. Is it love or pain? Blood or anger. Passion or hatred. And are these extremes, maybe, but opposites, not quite.
I have a shiny ring on my finger, but what does it mean. He hasn�t told me where I fit with his plans, just that I fit. I want more than that. I want to know why I fit, because if I don�t know quite exactually, I�m liable to leave.
I�m getting that feeling again, the one that says that I�m not so bad in what I want to do. That leaving something we all do nowadays. And I don�t know where I got these notions.
My parents have always been here. Married my whole life, and I truly believe they�ll stay that way.
I�ve never had a boyfriend leave me.
I�m always the one doing the leaving.
I don�t get it, I don�t get myself. I just want the cold that hurts me now to mean a soon to be dusting of snow and not just my body angry with me. How dare I consider leaving something I love without reason at all. Not that I wouldn�t find one, oh no, I�m super at creating excuses for walking away.
What do I want? Someone to stop me to show they truly care? Am I really so surrounded by people who I don�t feel really care that I need them to call my name to make me stop and turn to them. When will I get fucking movie notions out of my head and live with myself and my life and my choices instead of dancing around with words and trying to put the fa�ade of being smarter than I truly am. A better writer than I truly am. A better person than I truly am.
Will I call myself scum and drop it with that, though I hate that it might be that extreme.
Tell me what it is that I need, because if I listen to myself, I�m liable to walk away.
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