(no subject)
Well, the result of me being in a depressive mood is me going into my e-mail account (I never delete my e-mails out of sheer laziness) and searching through for all with 'Mixon' in them. Even as I read them, I remember that I'm looking through a lens at a period that was tumultuous. A lot of kind things were said, especially where it could be seen in public, at least by her. I try to force myself to remember how much we fought, and how much I wanted out of that relationship for the longest time. I didn't cry this time. That's a good thing. It would be a bad thing if I felt like there was anything I could do about it, but people change, and that ship has definitely set sail.
I imagine I continue to hurt myself over her because of feelings of guilt and regret. Whatever happened, I just always assumed she would be there, at least in some capacity. She understood me (because of I'm sure the amount of time we spent together) better than anyone else, much more than I understand myself. It's hard to be with someone now, because I know there's a ticking clock until I lose the battle to contain all the emotion. Kristi is a sweet girl, but I don't think it's going to work out. She's not antagonistic enough, nor does she understand why I do all the strange little things I do. I could tell her, and sure, she'd listen. She just wouldn't get it. Not on any real, meaningful level.
I miss winter. I understood things better back when it was 54 degrees out. People stayed inside, the air was still, it was quieter. I felt like, for some reason, Michele would come back and things would be better.
On the other hand, I'm not stupid. The second Ryan walked into the picture, I knew my antics were at an end. He was kind of her dream guy, and I'd been acting far from dreamy. It's weird, in an Aladdin kind of way. Sure, I know my bread is being stolen. I know the crime is there, but the guy stealing it is starving. If a crime's being committed for the right reasons, it's not like I can be upset about it. Not without doing a disservice to myself.
I imagine I continue to hurt myself over her because of feelings of guilt and regret. Whatever happened, I just always assumed she would be there, at least in some capacity. She understood me (because of I'm sure the amount of time we spent together) better than anyone else, much more than I understand myself. It's hard to be with someone now, because I know there's a ticking clock until I lose the battle to contain all the emotion. Kristi is a sweet girl, but I don't think it's going to work out. She's not antagonistic enough, nor does she understand why I do all the strange little things I do. I could tell her, and sure, she'd listen. She just wouldn't get it. Not on any real, meaningful level.
I miss winter. I understood things better back when it was 54 degrees out. People stayed inside, the air was still, it was quieter. I felt like, for some reason, Michele would come back and things would be better.
On the other hand, I'm not stupid. The second Ryan walked into the picture, I knew my antics were at an end. He was kind of her dream guy, and I'd been acting far from dreamy. It's weird, in an Aladdin kind of way. Sure, I know my bread is being stolen. I know the crime is there, but the guy stealing it is starving. If a crime's being committed for the right reasons, it's not like I can be upset about it. Not without doing a disservice to myself.