im asking him to change his ways
I write everywhere; sometimes, I believe it’s the only thing I can do right.
on my mind during work
Dave and I gave each other good-bye smiles. Slow motion closed and opened our lashes to reveal visions of only each other as we held memories in our hearts for a timeless moment. It’s like we were two friends born into strangers and it was the first time seeing each other again after a lifetime; it was one of those silent eternities when the flowers of the past beneath our bare feet were carried away by the wind of the future and neither of us could say anything because the flowers were too beautiful. I’m glad that last time we would see each other, we were both smiling.
That was unnecessarily long for one simple moment.
on paper from class on Wednesday
There is a piece of paper sitting next to me and I am so disgusted by it that I can’t even look at it. I was writing about how badly I want to be different from everyone else, but I spent half of the paper writing about how completely sickened I was by my handwriting. I erase words and rewrite them when I don’t print them good enough for myself; but then I can still see the eraser marks and I know I’m wasting my eraser anyway, and it just makes me feel sicker inside. I know it’s such a stupid thing to obsess over, but the thing I hate most is that I can’t help it. I hate it. And it’s a part of me.
Why do I have to be such a perfectionist and never reach perfection?
on a receipt
Why do I always have to miss everyone that is right in front of me?
Why cant I ever just take advantage of having them right there with me and act how I feel?
on my heart
Thank God for this day, eighteen years ago, the day my beautiful Pat was born.
I could write a novel on how he is everything to me, and he’ll still never know how much he means.
I love you with all of my heart.