I Do Not Struggle in Your Web.
Man, I can't believe I've been loading all my gay-ass journal entries onto facebook accidentally.
This weekend I did stuff. Went to Bayou Boogaloo. Went to Greekfest. Saw Indiana Jones (RIDDICULOUS). Went to a Mod Dance night. Shopping with my sister. Went to a Rollerderby. Missed Jakefest because it went on too long. Went shopping. Ate some rocking food. Spent monies. Got my ass kicked. Deserved it. Had a lot of fun with several people and one specific person. And I'm a flaky motherfucker now, apparently. Whatever. When I get my cell phone hooked up tomorrow everyone can bitch at me. And deservedly so.
Have you ever been around someone that you felt comfortable with? Maybe oddly attracted to, but you don't think it's anything deep or serious? Sometimes you look at them across the table and realize you have nothing to say, and the awkward silence sits, and you think of that scene from that movie with the "dining dead". But you want to say things. All sorts of things. What things? No clue. In being so comfortable, is there a possibility of actually being uncomfortable? Especially in achieving a state of comfort so quickly... even immediately. Confused at your self and your lack of feeling? Maybe.
Or, perhaps you're just so used to being needed and nessecary for emotional and financial support by every guy you've ever had that you don't know how to react to someone so self sufficient.
And, Matthew's grandma died. I called him yesterday to see if he'd take the cat to the vet like he was supposed to. He said no. Then he said he couldn't talk to me because he was busy dealing with all the turmoil his life has become, from me "a girl he cares deeply for breaking up with him" to "two of the most important figures of his childhood dying." You know what? That broke my heart a little. I'm a caretaker, and it made me want to drive home and hold him. But I can't do that. I can't do it for his sake, and for my own. There's growing up on his part that has to be done. There's rebuilding life stuff on my part that has to happen. They can't happen simultaneously.
My memory's getting bad.
This weekend I did stuff. Went to Bayou Boogaloo. Went to Greekfest. Saw Indiana Jones (RIDDICULOUS). Went to a Mod Dance night. Shopping with my sister. Went to a Rollerderby. Missed Jakefest because it went on too long. Went shopping. Ate some rocking food. Spent monies. Got my ass kicked. Deserved it. Had a lot of fun with several people and one specific person. And I'm a flaky motherfucker now, apparently. Whatever. When I get my cell phone hooked up tomorrow everyone can bitch at me. And deservedly so.
Have you ever been around someone that you felt comfortable with? Maybe oddly attracted to, but you don't think it's anything deep or serious? Sometimes you look at them across the table and realize you have nothing to say, and the awkward silence sits, and you think of that scene from that movie with the "dining dead". But you want to say things. All sorts of things. What things? No clue. In being so comfortable, is there a possibility of actually being uncomfortable? Especially in achieving a state of comfort so quickly... even immediately. Confused at your self and your lack of feeling? Maybe.
Or, perhaps you're just so used to being needed and nessecary for emotional and financial support by every guy you've ever had that you don't know how to react to someone so self sufficient.
And, Matthew's grandma died. I called him yesterday to see if he'd take the cat to the vet like he was supposed to. He said no. Then he said he couldn't talk to me because he was busy dealing with all the turmoil his life has become, from me "a girl he cares deeply for breaking up with him" to "two of the most important figures of his childhood dying." You know what? That broke my heart a little. I'm a caretaker, and it made me want to drive home and hold him. But I can't do that. I can't do it for his sake, and for my own. There's growing up on his part that has to be done. There's rebuilding life stuff on my part that has to happen. They can't happen simultaneously.
My memory's getting bad.