Today Was Just Another "Today"

I don't know what to do.

I love you

There have been so many times, Taylor, that I have wanted to sit down and write you a letter. So many times when I have wanted to tell you everything. I wanted to tell you what I couldn't tell myself. Tell you of the overwhelming feeling that I have when we watch Seinfeld at midnight. The feeling I get when you come outside and help me bring my things in from the car. The feeling I get when it's you, me and our cat, in bed on a wednesday morning. The feeling I get when I sneak the cherries out of the bottom of your coke glass, knowing full well that you knew upon putting them there that they would be mine. The feeling I get when I threaten to leave and you beg me to stay. The feeling I got when I hadn't seen you in a week and you grabbed me and held me like I was something you were afraid to lose. The feeling I get when you tell me my competitions are "rigged" simply because I didn't win. The feeling I get, Taylor, when all of a sudden I'm by your side and I forget that I'm afraid of planes and aliens and ghosts and the sun blowing up. When I forget that I'm scared of forever, that I'm scared of dying, that I'm scared of losing you. When I forget that I'm lost in this world, when I forget all the responsibilities and obstacles. When I'm next to you, my fear of the end of this world doesn't scare me, because I know that after this life, you'll still be right there next to me.

That is really all I have to say sweetheart. You were my first love, and I will always love you.

Different Names For The Same Thing

She called it love. More specifically she called it "falling in love". It was where she wanted to be. He was who she wanted to be with. ZE, GG, KK, MC- they all fit the mold, they all held her tight, they all filled the void. Each time it was different. Each time was more serious than the time before- more real and yet the thoughts that accompanied the moments that followed were more imaginary and more deluded than they had ever been. Each boy like a new coat of paint, covering up the old and unwanted color. Every day, though, the new paint would chip... leaving her with the same sad wall she had begun with. And because absence makes the heart grow fonder, she loved that wall, and every time it felt like she was seeing it for the first time. She was seeing HE for the first time, all over again. It is in these small and candid moments, when she saw him again, that she remembered the way she felt crawling back through the window at 4am, knowing that nothing was more perfect than HE. Remembered the way he sheltered her from January rain and not yet knowing how he would shelter her from the rain that came in all seasons of her life. It these moments she remembered what the new coat of paint had helped her to forget. It wasn't until much later that she realized that no matter how many coats of paint she put on the wall- it would always be there.

I feel like I've been here before

I can't say that things haven't been interesting. Obviously they've been overwhelmingly interesting- so much so that I've forgotten about this little diary I keep. Something I abandoned for fear that others may not like what they read here- but something I will rekindle, purely out of need for an outlet.

It's funny to me how life spins in circles. No matter which road I take, I always end up in the same place...every time. Relationships mimic each other, no matter who they're with- nothing changes except for ourselves. We change, while every habit around us stays exactly the same. The same old song and dance and time and time again I forget how to deal with it.

Want some?

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It's cold in here

You took your coat off and stood in the rain,
You're always crazy like that.
And I watched from my window,
Always felt I was outside looking in on you.
You're always the mysterious one with
Dark eyes and careless hair,
You were fashionably sensitive
But too cool to care.
You stood in my doorway, with nothing to say
Besides some comment on the weather.


Well in case you failed to notice,
In case you failed to see,
This is my heart bleeding before you,
This is me down on my knees, and...


These foolish games are tearing me apart,
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.
You're breaking my heart.
You're always brilliant in the morning,
Smoking your cigarettes and talking over coffee.
Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you.
You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones
As I clumsily strummed my guitar.

You'd teach me of honest things
Things that were daring, things that were clean
Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean
So I hid my soiled hands behind my back
Somewhere along the line I must've gone off track with you


Well, excuse me, guess I've mistaken you for somebody else,
Somebody who gave a damn,
Somebody more like myself.


You took your coat off,
Stood in the rain,
You're always crazy like that.



If you've never heard this gorgeous song, do yourself a favor and download it. It says what my words cannot.

Hate Post.

Yeah, I hurt. I hurt just like you. I'm human and I hurt. Lately the hurt has been so overwhelming that I can barely bring myself to live this life. I can barely get up in the morning, shower and get to class. I can barely bring myself to see that I have no missed calls, nor texts from you. Your insensitivity is something I try not to bring to my own attention, but time and time again it comes back to haunt me. It was never anything I could point out, the insensitivity. It was always subtle and hidden beneath resentment and regret, hidden beneath convinence. The comments are backhanded, crude and often disguised but they hurt nonetheless. And I wonder, after all of these years, why I continue to put 110% into everything I do for you. Why I lay in bed at night and dream about our future. Why I strive to make you happy, fill your voids and comfort you. I wonder why. I wonder why, after loving you for so much and for so long I can't just let go. I wonder why you can't just love me back. I can say these things because I know you'll never read this. I can write these things because even though you're sitting just two feet away, you'll never know they've been written. You'll never strive to seek the insides of me, you will never ache to know my dreams and aspirations as I do yours. You will never visit my blog in hopes of getting some insight into the girl you claim to love. This is what breaks my heart. This thoughtlessness and insensitivity.