Journal 12503
I was wrong. Love is a two-way matter. There are no one-way streets in the city of love. Ha ha. Oh well. I guess it was nice thinking that I could exist with a one-sided love. Its interesting to think every girl I am to like will probably not like me and every girl that will like me I probably will not like. Oh well. I can lie all I want and no one will know the better. I can cut it all off and then die quite slowly and painfully, probably in my sleep. Ha ha. Premature heart attacks. Doctors just say that certain young people are more prone to heart attacks. They never mention that quite a few of these young people had perfectly fine blood pressure and a healthy heart. I am quite healthy, but I’m going to die soon. Ha ha. Oh well. Maybe I won’t. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to find a reciprocating love. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll find something that is close enough and doesn’t need to reciprocate. Meditation and phasing out can only keep a person sane and living so long. Eventually, one will have to come back to his life. Even escaping into a book will no longer work. When I come out, I feel even more loss once I realize I’m not in the book. So be it. I can no longer hide and expect my life to turn out good by itself. Also, I can no longer allow myself to be flung around by idiotic infatuations. Maybe I’ll live for longer than I expect or maybe it will come to me, or maybe nothing will change, but either way I should start living, or the best equivalent of it. This is the end and I will not just be taken down. SO BE IT!