today at lunch i got a message from someone i used to call my best friend. he was my best friend and never anything more than that. that's why still to this day we feel comfortable just hanging out alone - especially when we haven't made time to do so in months. we decided to go to dinner, and he picked me up spontaneously at my house, we drove by kyle's and the three of us went to bison witches for soup. michael and i did at least.
the whole night we never did a thing. we very well accomplished not doing anything, but we had some of the best conversations. it's cool to be friends with people who care more about things going on in the world, or in this state, or just know things in general. i'm really just sick of people talking about how dank the weed is from denver or about all of the wonderful things of disk golf that no one understands, but still they persistently force everything on us. i love them to death, but goodness.
i probably spent more time happily in the nastiest apartment i've ever seen, than anywhere else this week. especially on this couch i've been so bound to. michael stafford came over, and the night got even better. they're all such good guys full of depth that i'm so thankful to be friends with.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
hot hands, cold heart
tonight was one of those nights were i did everything i wanted to - i watched sappy movie after sappy movie about love in a foreign country and ate two bags of popcorn. i don't even care, nor do i really need to be concerned. i'm still downing my diet coke as i'm typing this. sitting on this same brown leather couch that i've been bound to since monday. since i caught this disease.
my lungs aren't the only thing that need medical attention. maybe not even medical but psychological? emotional, maybe physical. but i'm all caught up in 'what about the future' plans. the question of whether i'm in it for the long haul question. and my old, and seemingly forgotten mantra of "dont give your heart to someone undeserving". yet it isn't even that, because he deserves the world. he deserves someone who wants to be touched and talked to all the time. someone who doesn't mind partying until 3am every weeknight or weekend. someone who likes the food he makes. he deserves that girl who needs every ounce of him like he needs her.
but that's not me. it's never been me and never will be. mostly because sometimes even when my closest friends touch me i could kill them. i hate being touched sometimes, and please don't hound me about anything. don't get maaaad when i want to hang out with my family or when i don't want to smoke weed because my lung is currently collapsing. i'm sorry that i don't want to eat your food. the same food that you always make. some sort of pasta with (bet you can't guess it) garlic, onions and peppers. ohhh my god, if i had a dollar for ever meal that was made with those ingredients. i could pay for every ticket to boston i've lusted over. i could pay for my schooling there, and i could buy all of the cardigans i want.
i'm not writing this for anyone, really. i'm writing because i need to get it out of my system so i stop having mild panic attacks about essentially breaking up with him. we aren't even dating, but he gets so anxious and worried and sad. don't need me, i'm probably the wrong girl to ever need because in more ways than one, i'm just like my mother. i'm cold, and i'll reject you until you bleed. and sometimes i won't feel bad. it'll weigh on me until it evaporates into the green along with every other crisis i avert.
no one is here in there right mind next to me. they're somewhere out there falling in love with the cabinets, wandering about the fourth floor. they're somewhere in the green cloud or they're daydreaming about something else. no one is here but this blank page that i fill with hope for myself.
my lungs aren't the only thing that need medical attention. maybe not even medical but psychological? emotional, maybe physical. but i'm all caught up in 'what about the future' plans. the question of whether i'm in it for the long haul question. and my old, and seemingly forgotten mantra of "dont give your heart to someone undeserving". yet it isn't even that, because he deserves the world. he deserves someone who wants to be touched and talked to all the time. someone who doesn't mind partying until 3am every weeknight or weekend. someone who likes the food he makes. he deserves that girl who needs every ounce of him like he needs her.
but that's not me. it's never been me and never will be. mostly because sometimes even when my closest friends touch me i could kill them. i hate being touched sometimes, and please don't hound me about anything. don't get maaaad when i want to hang out with my family or when i don't want to smoke weed because my lung is currently collapsing. i'm sorry that i don't want to eat your food. the same food that you always make. some sort of pasta with (bet you can't guess it) garlic, onions and peppers. ohhh my god, if i had a dollar for ever meal that was made with those ingredients. i could pay for every ticket to boston i've lusted over. i could pay for my schooling there, and i could buy all of the cardigans i want.
i'm not writing this for anyone, really. i'm writing because i need to get it out of my system so i stop having mild panic attacks about essentially breaking up with him. we aren't even dating, but he gets so anxious and worried and sad. don't need me, i'm probably the wrong girl to ever need because in more ways than one, i'm just like my mother. i'm cold, and i'll reject you until you bleed. and sometimes i won't feel bad. it'll weigh on me until it evaporates into the green along with every other crisis i avert.
no one is here in there right mind next to me. they're somewhere out there falling in love with the cabinets, wandering about the fourth floor. they're somewhere in the green cloud or they're daydreaming about something else. no one is here but this blank page that i fill with hope for myself.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
five star gemini, always
i'm so done with this lung infection of sorts. i'm sick of my heart racing each time i get up to go to the bathroom or each time i get more water. like i'm sick of not being hungry, but always feeling faint. i want to get out of this house, but i'm afraid i'll throw up or be miserable or pass out. the morning i woke up with this sickness, my hears rang and i could hear my heartbeat because i was on the verge of fainting. i'm always so frail, walking on ice with my body's stability and i never know how to fix it. even my emotions, like i'm set off into the cosmos each time i get close to someone because i feel trapped and strangled. don't get mad when i want to hang out with my mom. i'm practically fighting with this boy who i'm in a relationship with, but not really? i hate it and hes sad because of me. i can barely breathe and i can barely move, but he can get mad at me because i won't go to dinner with him. i feel trapped. and i want SO bad i really want to go to boston. he just texted me and i could vomit, but i won't. i'll sit here and drink water and pretend my phone didn't buzz. i'll pretend like everything's okay. i'll play like my lung isn't collapsing and i'll act like we aren't together. i'll act like i'm fine, i'm strong and i'll pretend i like this damn couch. fuck, i hate today. i'm supposed to be five stars.
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