Why is the rum gone?
So, frighteningly enough, I seem to be embacing my inner roughneck. I've been listening to Georgia Satellites in my car for the last few days. *sigh* Yee-haw!
So begins a night of no sleep as I finish putting together a draft of the "Relocation Packet" for work (I'm not expecting anyone to know what that is). With that in mind, and various interesting things that have happened in the last few days, I drove up to my mom's house to drop off my brother, walked in the door and said, "I'm staying here tonight. Where's the rum?" And of course, only enough left for one drink. Sadness. I should have brought the Smirnoff with me.
(now a completely change of pace)
It's a wierd sensation when you realize that after not seeing someone for nearly half a year, that you really have fallen in love with them. You learned how to have an autonomous existance without them (maybe the occassional letter or two). Their absense seems to make no impact on your life. Everything is as it should be. Then you see her again. And all you can think of, while she tells stories of her boyfriend - of how he is the only one that has pulled her back out of a panic attack. And while I'm eternally grateful for what he's done and continues to do for her, I can't help but think ... that's not me. I'm not important in her life anymore. She could exist without me. And while I was under the impression that I had gotten used to the idea that she wasn't around - a feeling of balance at her lack of presence - I always knew that she'd be there when I got back.
I sort of wonder if she knows she is, and will always me first love. There are indeed times when I ache for her. And then I must ask myself, "did she ever really love you in the first place?" At this point in the thought process, I realize how arrogant I have been to assume that she could ever care for me as much as I have for her. Maybe in the last few months of high school. But not anymore. All I can say is that I wish I had been of service while I was with you. That any iota of my devotion served you as I wish I could.
So begins a night of no sleep as I finish putting together a draft of the "Relocation Packet" for work (I'm not expecting anyone to know what that is). With that in mind, and various interesting things that have happened in the last few days, I drove up to my mom's house to drop off my brother, walked in the door and said, "I'm staying here tonight. Where's the rum?" And of course, only enough left for one drink. Sadness. I should have brought the Smirnoff with me.
(now a completely change of pace)
It's a wierd sensation when you realize that after not seeing someone for nearly half a year, that you really have fallen in love with them. You learned how to have an autonomous existance without them (maybe the occassional letter or two). Their absense seems to make no impact on your life. Everything is as it should be. Then you see her again. And all you can think of, while she tells stories of her boyfriend - of how he is the only one that has pulled her back out of a panic attack. And while I'm eternally grateful for what he's done and continues to do for her, I can't help but think ... that's not me. I'm not important in her life anymore. She could exist without me. And while I was under the impression that I had gotten used to the idea that she wasn't around - a feeling of balance at her lack of presence - I always knew that she'd be there when I got back.
I sort of wonder if she knows she is, and will always me first love. There are indeed times when I ache for her. And then I must ask myself, "did she ever really love you in the first place?" At this point in the thought process, I realize how arrogant I have been to assume that she could ever care for me as much as I have for her. Maybe in the last few months of high school. But not anymore. All I can say is that I wish I had been of service while I was with you. That any iota of my devotion served you as I wish I could.