Fell In Love With A Boy
Saturday, June 19th, 2010If you want to know the truth . . . if you want to know the truth, I think at times it’s doomed. If you want to know the truth, I doubt that things will get better. And if you want to know the truth, I don’t believe he takes it seriously when I tell him that there’s something missing here.
What is it? What’s changed? Maybe nothing. Maybe there was nothing there to begin with, no spark or life to it or . . . desperate sort of affection. Maybe it’s all been so simple seeming because there was no great feeling, it was no great feat. Maybe it was a pattern that we both just fell into: this being with one another so much of this time, those kisses, those stated declarations of love, those gifts, those kindnesses. Maybe those moment were kind and joyful even in a way but were somehow scripted instead of spontaneous. Maybe my romances are always doomed.
It certainly seems that way at times. But I know of course that it’s just whining to say so.
I am mourning, and that is never a good thing to feel one must do while amidst a relationship. Mourning for what exactly? For all the things I thought I was being promised that I realize now I never was. For all the imaginings of a young and vibrant love story, one full of well-reasoned recklessness and wise passion. I wonder if there is such a thing. I mean, my last relationship was passionate, but off the charts when it came to instability and, frankly, insanity. My current one is replete with security and no feeling at all. Is there not something in the middle? Or am I doomed to be unsatisfied?
I wonder what this is. I could almost swear it wasn’t always like this. Something has changed, and dramatically. Is he really just in pain? Or is there something he isn’t telling me? Where’s the disconnect coming from and does it really make sense to stay with someone just because you are with them if you’re not really with them after all? What was it that first brought us together? . . . I can’t seem to remember.
. . .
Sleep well, my Current Intention. Who knows what will be when you awake.
Here’s the thing about dudes: Without fail, they will drive you nuts.
Diet Coke is addictive. Also, apparently, it punctures little holes in your brain. And my dad is pretty adamant that aspartame will make you stupid and blind. Confession time? I’ve been drinking it by the gallon for years.