My brain is currently holding me hostage. I've got mad posts sitting in draft mode because I can't think about anything that doesn't involve moping about the fucking boy for more than 5 minutes at a time. I've regressed to the angsty mess I thought I'd finally made peace with and I'm a bit unclear how to get out of that mode. It's rather irritating.
Somehow when I wasn't paying attention and/or thought I was okay about it, I got gobsmacked with all this despairing bullshit. I have no idea where it's coming from, but it's getting worse. And I'll tell you what, being on a concert-induced NIN kick isn't helping. I've pretty much lost all rational thought and I don't know what to do about it.
The really sickening part is though I like(d) him well enough, I don't really see what the big deal is. The first person I liked enough all year to actually tell people? No, not really. The first person in forever that I could really see myself starting something with? Nope. Some great ...something or another? Nyet. He's the one with the issues so this dissolution isn't even my fault. That it wasn't going to work out was fairly obvious and I was really good like last week at sucking it up and dealing. It's typical me really: I come out swinging like a hardman and then end up all pathetic and emo.
The stupidest thing of all the crazy thoughts surrounding him was that we look good together. I look good with some scruffy borderline hipster motherfucker? It makes me think I don't even know myself sometimes. But when we were surrounded on all sides by the young and drunken, I looked at him and smiled and for a brief second, it felt like the only place in the universe I was supposed to be. And that was really sweet if ultimately wrong. I need a lobotomy. But for now, going to the gym will have to do.
Posted by Candicissima at November 6, 2005 11:16 PM