So tired of writing this blog to be interesting. I'm holding it all back with the hope that maybe some kind of miniature masterpiece will come out if I regulate the flow of words from my fingertips. I
I'm so tired of writing only in the abstract aspects of life. Beliefs, short prose, frustrations with the general population. All of these generalities have been eclipsed by the desire to escape.
I thought I loved this guy, sometimes I still think so. Sometimes is few and far between now. All the feelings came in the summer and we were like magnets, pulled together so forcefully. In the summer I transform. I'm beautiful and strong at the same time, and I am willing to sacrifice for what might be love.
Then the winter comes. Classes, books, pens, friends, budgets. It overshadows my life. I sacrifice love for what might be success. He doesn't like it, the way I disappear into my world. I don't like the way I let his world become my sun.
I've got to break gravity, float away like it never happened. He started out as a rebound from a two year relationship followed by the two week destruction of a friendship. How we can be so ignorant as to destroy a friendship made in stone, I'll never know. I apologized to that one, he means alot. But things are not fixed, because all the friendships were destroyed then. He and my ex of two years were labeled 'the used' and I was labeled 'gift.' (gift is German for poison).
The boy I'm with now, he won't let me talk it all out. He gets upset everytime I mention my past. I want to sit down and cry. I want to tell him quietly, but in the loudest words I have: get out. You don't love me. I know. We're too young. Leave me be.
We've had these conversations. He always 'understands.' Why is he still around? And why does my mind tell me that if he stays, it's his own fault when he's hurt?
I want out. Cheating is the fastest way, but my integrity is slipping already, there's got to be a better way. I don't want this drama over again. Maybe if I just start slipping off. That would be nice. I'm trying it. Telling him doesn't work. Maybe actions will.
By the way, I know you think I'm wrong, beloved reader. Back it up with reason and examples, the kind of argument an english teacher could heed. Maybe then I'll listen.
