Dear Livejournal
Remember when I used to update all the time. Because I had nothing better to do?
Well, I still don't have anything better to do, but fuck if I update all that often now. On the home front: the nephew (Preston) has two teeth. My kiddies are all advancing at the daycare. Its a little sad, to watch them grow up this fast. In the three months that I've worked there I've seen three kids potty trained, and one who says the prayer at lunch.
Its crazy.
On the personal front: There's this space between who I used to be and who I am now and I can't manage to find out how I jumped the space between. It feels like there is so much that I don't understand about myself right now and I know that it might be my fault.
Maybe I should stop pushing things to the back of my mind. Swearing that I'm going to deal with things. Because I'm obviously not going to. Repress repress repress.
Chant with me.
Repress repress repress.
I guess the only thing left to say is yes, I still love you. Even though I wish I don't. But I don't think I could manage to cry over you anymore. I just feel tired now when I think of you, and I'd rather feel alive.
Trust me, I'm trying to move on. It just might not be too hard.
ETA: Also, I just realized that my journal has been called Inane Rambling of the Teenage Kind since I was fourteen. And my twentieth birthday was the 11th. I guess I have to change that now, since I'm no longer a teenager.
Well, I still don't have anything better to do, but fuck if I update all that often now. On the home front: the nephew (Preston) has two teeth. My kiddies are all advancing at the daycare. Its a little sad, to watch them grow up this fast. In the three months that I've worked there I've seen three kids potty trained, and one who says the prayer at lunch.
Its crazy.
On the personal front: There's this space between who I used to be and who I am now and I can't manage to find out how I jumped the space between. It feels like there is so much that I don't understand about myself right now and I know that it might be my fault.
Maybe I should stop pushing things to the back of my mind. Swearing that I'm going to deal with things. Because I'm obviously not going to. Repress repress repress.
Chant with me.
Repress repress repress.
I guess the only thing left to say is yes, I still love you. Even though I wish I don't. But I don't think I could manage to cry over you anymore. I just feel tired now when I think of you, and I'd rather feel alive.
Trust me, I'm trying to move on. It just might not be too hard.
ETA: Also, I just realized that my journal has been called Inane Rambling of the Teenage Kind since I was fourteen. And my twentieth birthday was the 11th. I guess I have to change that now, since I'm no longer a teenager.