My Life Never Changes.
I just read this.
And I realized.
My life is on repeat.
I keep playing the same track over and over again, even though I know how it ends.
Even though it doesn't end well.
And when I was in Mike's arms Friday night, I honestly didn't want to move. I didn't want to leave him. (I didn't even tell you my new plan, did I? I wanted to take a semester off school and move to Boston to become a resident, and then allegedly return to University of Mass. But I have suspicions that I don't intend on going back at all.)
And this was good, because this was a change.
Wednesday I told Mike (I finally didn't tell him about this plan to move) that he should stop pretending to hate me and enjoy what time he has left with me. It was cryptic, but I just wanted him to have some kind of warning before August rolls around and I'm gone.
And the plan was supposed to be that even if we did hook up again, that wasn't supposed to change anything-- I was still supposed to leave.
But as we cuddled in the baackseat of my car and he bagan snoring, I looked up at his angel's face, completely aware of how very much I loved him, and feeling happy for the first time in months, and I remember thinking, "I don't want to move. I want to stay here and do this."
And you know what? I actually could be happy with that if he would be consistent. I really could. I could settle for Friday nights if he could just... not do this afterward.
Ignoring me and being stand-offish just makes me feel like a whore.
It makes me so angry.