(no subject)
I feel weak. Not like in that "oh woe is me" sort of fashion, but more in that I'm too tired to protest anymore way. I respond to you because I don't have the willpower not to, and I have no interest in trying anymore. Nothing means anything to me anymore. At least about this. So much more seems so pointless. But I don't feel depressed or anxious as much. Which, by the way, never tell your parents you think you are depressed because the phone calls will ensue. Family members continue to call me and check up and make sure I am trying to get help. But I don't want to get help anymore because the depression has lifted and the homesickness has faded. Granted, I come home nearly every weekend, but I know deep down I cannot spend the next two years driving back home every Friday, only to return to San Diego every Sunday. I tell you what you want to hear because I don't want to be coy anymore. I don't want to try to think of witty things to say. I just tell it like it would be, if this is what I wanted. For what it's worth, I really actually liked you. And I don't know what happened, but nothing is the same anymore. I'm about three books behind in one class, but everything else I have been keeping up with. Paper after paper, but I don't really mind. It all makes sense. So straightforward. Above all, I want to learn how to play the piano, which I blame on Nicholas Sparks. My mom's favorite color is teal, which I learned for the first time today. I miss so many people, but when I see them I feel disappointed. Disclaimer: This doesn't apply to you if you are reading this. Time has passed, but nooone has changed. And I don't really feel different, it just looks different now. I miss my family and I pay cards with my dad for an hour every weekend I come home. But really, it's not so bad here. It would be amazing with friends here. Amazing. Everything is pretty here. And I swear, the boys are cute and smart. Everyone I talk to happens to be from Ventura. My taste in music changed. I have a thing for soundtracks. It's almost all falling into place, but not quite and I haven't figured out why. We talk about it so casually, as if it isn't out the ordinary. I know it has to stop, and it's all a matter of time. That time hasn't come yet, but you'll know when it does.