i slur a plea for you to come home.
my stomach hurts so i can't sleep.
i had this random compulsion to check back through old journal entries from a year ago, around this time, then two years ago.
last year was right around time time batman begins came out, when friends would spend the night on our lumpy yet comfy couch, when panera was pulling chunks off my good nature and ability to cope and serving it up with their soup of the day.
two years ago i was stuck in some of the most agonizing emotional pain of my life, and trying to figure out how i was going to start school with it under my belt.
why, why do i have commitment to nostalgia, painful and well as happily memorable, when i know no good can come of it? its an old habit, one i thought i broke when i deleted the 1 gig of e-mails from onetime friends and boyfriends, but nope, its still there, as potent as ever, and the side affects are run on sentences and restlessness.
at least its satisfying and authentic to say that i've grown since then, and the wound is more like an infrequent ailment, albeit a permanent one. i never thought the pain from then would deafen, but it has considerably, and i'm thankful for that.
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i guess what i'm trying to say, to myself, because this entry is really written for no one else but me, is that in a year, or two years, or five years from now when i get recollective i'll be greatly heartened, if not just satisfied, to know that in july of 2006 things were good. i have a steady, well-paying job with considerable perks, a close connection will all members of my immediate family, and a rock solid relationship with someone i've loved, one way or another, for nine years.