why'd you have to be so cute? it's impossible to ignore you.
Life Update.
I can't believe I haven't written in here since before my Eurotrip. Right now I'm sitting in the computer lab, where I will be sitting for the next six hours, considering I work here now and have to stay until close-up. Anyway. Here's a quick update.
Europe was amazing. Three weeks of back-packing through England, Italy, Austria, France, and Holland. It changed my life, and that's all I have to say about that.
Dated John this summer. Fell in love for the first time in my life, finally found out what I had been missing. Had my heart ripped apart for the first time when he let another girl sleep in his bed. Had my first experience with walking away from love. Later found out that right after we broke up, he fucked her. No going back.
Now I'm back at Burlington. So far, it has been amazing. Got a little crazy last weekend and got a tattoo. Left shoulder. "La dolce vita," the sweet life in italian. I've fallen in love with it. My best friend got one as well, and if anyone can pull it off, it would be her. This weekend I'll be going hiking with my best friend. He promised to go easy on me, but it's still 22 miles in, 22 miles back. Ugh. Shudder. Whatever.
HEATHER! Did you know that a few days ago, Zach hitchhiked his way to Burlington??? Yeah, well he did, and he told me he did it to be with me. I, of course, had to shoot him down, considering I'm still hung up on John, and don't know him AT ALL. He didn't take it well. Call me, I'll tell you the rest.
And now it is time for a bit of emo rambling. Please ignore.
The last kiss is never the last kiss. The day I gave up on us, he gave me our last kiss. It felt like goodbye. But in the back of my mind, I still thought that somewhere down the road we would be on again.
Without trust, there is no love.
It's funny how dreams can be so crushingly real, that when you wake from them, you're convinced they actually happened. He kissed me last night. We were actually on again, again. I don't remember how, but I remember how he tasted. Real. Doubtful. Untrustworthy. But even still, it tasted like love. The alarm interrupted us. I awoke to reality.
This isn't real life. We'll always be a stolen season. I want to live again.
I can't believe I haven't written in here since before my Eurotrip. Right now I'm sitting in the computer lab, where I will be sitting for the next six hours, considering I work here now and have to stay until close-up. Anyway. Here's a quick update.
Europe was amazing. Three weeks of back-packing through England, Italy, Austria, France, and Holland. It changed my life, and that's all I have to say about that.
Dated John this summer. Fell in love for the first time in my life, finally found out what I had been missing. Had my heart ripped apart for the first time when he let another girl sleep in his bed. Had my first experience with walking away from love. Later found out that right after we broke up, he fucked her. No going back.
Now I'm back at Burlington. So far, it has been amazing. Got a little crazy last weekend and got a tattoo. Left shoulder. "La dolce vita," the sweet life in italian. I've fallen in love with it. My best friend got one as well, and if anyone can pull it off, it would be her. This weekend I'll be going hiking with my best friend. He promised to go easy on me, but it's still 22 miles in, 22 miles back. Ugh. Shudder. Whatever.
HEATHER! Did you know that a few days ago, Zach hitchhiked his way to Burlington??? Yeah, well he did, and he told me he did it to be with me. I, of course, had to shoot him down, considering I'm still hung up on John, and don't know him AT ALL. He didn't take it well. Call me, I'll tell you the rest.
And now it is time for a bit of emo rambling. Please ignore.
The last kiss is never the last kiss. The day I gave up on us, he gave me our last kiss. It felt like goodbye. But in the back of my mind, I still thought that somewhere down the road we would be on again.
Without trust, there is no love.
It's funny how dreams can be so crushingly real, that when you wake from them, you're convinced they actually happened. He kissed me last night. We were actually on again, again. I don't remember how, but I remember how he tasted. Real. Doubtful. Untrustworthy. But even still, it tasted like love. The alarm interrupted us. I awoke to reality.
This isn't real life. We'll always be a stolen season. I want to live again.