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09.25.03 - 3:17 pm

how flighty and fickle i am.

two days after my return home, and i've already unconsciously started the process of detangling myself from this mess.

pining is not in my nature, unless the object of my affection is unaware of my intentions.

there is some strange part of me i can't turn off - it wants to keep me happy and sane. it won't let me fixate on the unattainable. it won't let me really get myself hurt.

i honest to god wish i could stick this out. i still do believe that we're the greatest couple that never were.

but this tragedy stuff ain't good for my complexion.

i just looked at his pictures.. really studied them.. and felt nothing. this is how it begins. this is how i unravel myself. some people have a hard time letting go, but it's second nature to me.

i'm starting to get arrogant. i'm thinking like a girl, dammit. i'm thinking that pretty soon now he'll wake up and remember something amazing about me and write me some sweetness. it'll be too late.

that's easy to say when he's not in the same room as me. who knows what will happen if/when that happens again.

the last couple days i've been making a mental list of things i've done wrong. things i should have seen. things i'd do differently if i could do it over.

but i have to keep in mind that everything happens for a reason.

and what's funny is that instead of taking this poorly and being all stupid like, "boys are evil. i will never love again. fuck this pain bullshit," i'm more like, "love is actually really wonderful. the pain makes you feel alive. it's worth every second. i want to do it again and again."

scary, i know.

i love him. i'm not afraid to tell you, or you, or you.

and not in the way i love my friends. in a different way. and so what?

i've been mentally composing a mix cd for him, full of saddish songs. it's being scrapped for something brighter and more hopeful.

sarah and i are moving to a tiny island together where boys don't exist and no airplanes can fly in to visit us. it is settled.

and by the way, i have concluded that friendster is really liarster. nobody tells the real truth about themselves. nobody leaves brutally honest testimonials. no one is as good as they seem to be. i think you should be forced to list your 'issues', 'hangups', 'phobias' and 'vices' instead of 'music', 'movies', 'tv' and 'books'.

those are infinitely more telling, don't you think?

when i finally get up the strength to edit my profile again, i will be totally honest about myself. i will not paint a pretty picture. i am all about the honesty. it will probably be pretty laughable, and quite contrary to all the sacchrine-sweet testis i've acquired. maybe i'll even call my friends liars. we shall see.

all's i know is that there are certain pieces of information that would have prevented me from ever embarking on this trip of self-discovery and of love. i don't ever want to steer anyone wrong again.



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