Tonight feels like a night for honesty.
I thoroughly enjoy being able to create awkward silence at the drop of a hat only by brining up times spent with him. I'm sorry that's its true. Its embarrassing and makes me feel juvenile, but I feel like the whole situation, and how both of us have handled it, is juvenile. Why stop now. It makes me feel even more awful that the word I choose to describe myself when acting this way is a word I hate with everything in me. Bitch. I am being a bitch when I intentionally drop his name. Not an asshole or a fucker. Not anything that gender neutrality can attach itself to. I am being a catty fucking bitch. And I'm sorry. But until you change your behaviors, I'm probably not going to change mine.
I have forced the mantra "and if friends is all it is, then I'm glad to be your friend" into my head. It still doesn't make it true. All of this time together, one on one, I fucking love it. I haven't been this me with someone in ages. For both of our sakes I wish I could say that I don't spend that time thinking about what a natural transition it would be to attach ourselves to one another. It just feels like it would make sense, with your head on my shoulder and your hands in my lap, to tilt your head back and kiss you. If I didn't so prefer to not make the first move, and if I hadn't already tried taking the reigns, I probably would have done it. I'm sorry that I can't shake it off. I feel like we're becoming best friends, and I feel guilty that I still have these ulterior motives. But what it really comes down to is that I am still that spoiled child I told you about. I still want what I want when I want it. And I still have to remind myself that others don't typically want to cater to that. Just add it to your list of reasons to ignore my yearning.
I am one lucky mother fucker, and I don't know how. Sometimes I feel so entitled to the friends that I have that are willing to give me a place to stay, or a tour to go on, or a name to drop. Its bullshit. I do nothing. I have no reason to feel justified in having what I have. I act as if its a big deal to spend all of my money on musicians with no funds, or let my car be their car/home/trash can. Or like I'm really sacrificing when I put their well being over mine. But what kind of sacrifice is it to attach yourself to fame. I have a name that people know simply because I'm a friend of someone important. I am introduced as so-and-so's friend or "the girl driving us on tour". I am just a leech. Don't fool yourselves. I love all of you more than I can conceive, but I do use you. I'm sorry.
All of these petty thoughts are swirling through my head when I notice that the signs on the roads between the apartment and Victor's are spelling out an Amber Alert. Talk about selfish. I am consumed and concerned with me, me, me. And dumb things about myself at that. Meanwhile a family is in peril. But I can't even keep my mind on them and their frantic pain. All it makes me think of is how much easier life was when I was downstairs from my parents, in the room next to my brother's music room, fifteen minutes away from my grandparents, and three hours away from Chicago.
Unfortunately there is a nugget of truth in my joke about preferring to complain than change something. So come later today when I wake, it will be with these thoughts still making up my core. I'm sorry for that, too. Maybe this time I'll feel sorry enough to try to change.
I have forced the mantra "and if friends is all it is, then I'm glad to be your friend" into my head. It still doesn't make it true. All of this time together, one on one, I fucking love it. I haven't been this me with someone in ages. For both of our sakes I wish I could say that I don't spend that time thinking about what a natural transition it would be to attach ourselves to one another. It just feels like it would make sense, with your head on my shoulder and your hands in my lap, to tilt your head back and kiss you. If I didn't so prefer to not make the first move, and if I hadn't already tried taking the reigns, I probably would have done it. I'm sorry that I can't shake it off. I feel like we're becoming best friends, and I feel guilty that I still have these ulterior motives. But what it really comes down to is that I am still that spoiled child I told you about. I still want what I want when I want it. And I still have to remind myself that others don't typically want to cater to that. Just add it to your list of reasons to ignore my yearning.
I am one lucky mother fucker, and I don't know how. Sometimes I feel so entitled to the friends that I have that are willing to give me a place to stay, or a tour to go on, or a name to drop. Its bullshit. I do nothing. I have no reason to feel justified in having what I have. I act as if its a big deal to spend all of my money on musicians with no funds, or let my car be their car/home/trash can. Or like I'm really sacrificing when I put their well being over mine. But what kind of sacrifice is it to attach yourself to fame. I have a name that people know simply because I'm a friend of someone important. I am introduced as so-and-so's friend or "the girl driving us on tour". I am just a leech. Don't fool yourselves. I love all of you more than I can conceive, but I do use you. I'm sorry.
All of these petty thoughts are swirling through my head when I notice that the signs on the roads between the apartment and Victor's are spelling out an Amber Alert. Talk about selfish. I am consumed and concerned with me, me, me. And dumb things about myself at that. Meanwhile a family is in peril. But I can't even keep my mind on them and their frantic pain. All it makes me think of is how much easier life was when I was downstairs from my parents, in the room next to my brother's music room, fifteen minutes away from my grandparents, and three hours away from Chicago.
Unfortunately there is a nugget of truth in my joke about preferring to complain than change something. So come later today when I wake, it will be with these thoughts still making up my core. I'm sorry for that, too. Maybe this time I'll feel sorry enough to try to change.