I’ve finally become 114% comfortable doing things completely on my own. But all that alone time also calls for a lot of quality time with just my thoughts. And thinking too much sometimes isn’t the best thing for the seemingly sane mind. Thoughts you never thought you had appear, and even more dangerous, old thoughts that you thought were long gone resurface. Taking a risk posting this (I’ll probably delete this in the morning not unlike a drunk text) but here goes nothing…
- For example, what if timing had been better. I’ve known you since forever. You’ve heard me cry on the phone, seen me gain weight and lose weight and gain it back, watched me be the nightmare of a teenager that I was, listened to me talk about my family even though I hadn’t seen you in a year, done a zillion and one undeserved favors for me, and you probably don’t even know it, but you were there with me when I got drunk for the first time. I know there was a time you liked me – you probably don’t even remember. And there was most definitely a time when I liked you. But it never seemed to match up. Every time that I liked you, you had a new girlfriend, or maybe I liked you after the fact. And the one time it might have worked out, I chickened out and pretended nothing was ever going to happen. You probably didn’t even notice any of this, but I did and wish things had gone differently. You’re not even my “type,” but the thought of you always seems to creep up at the most random moments. I still know your birthday by heart, your favorite color, your favorite number… But I know I’m far removed from your life and thoughts at this point, and I thought you were from mine, but that’s obviously not the case. I still like talking to you and will always like talking to you, if you’ll let me.
- Why do I love food so much? Is it really worth loving that much? Is that all I ever think about? Yes. Is that ok? Not sure.
- How about post-grad? I know I’m still only a Junior, but what am I going to be doing with my life? I have such commitment issues and I get bored so easily – how am I going to find a job that I truly love? And when I do find that job, will I be able to be close to people I care about and love? I can already see and feel myself become a career-centric workaholic, but I don’t want to settle…I can already picture myself in that city apartment, living with one of my best friends, walking to work everyday in a chic outfit, grabbing a coffee and quick but gourmet lunch, collecting art, and living the high life. But how hard I’m going to have to work to get there and how much of a sellout I might end up being.
- I wish I hadn’t taken things so personally because I miss you so much as one of my best friends. You always got it when I was bothered. I’ll never forget how you made me Easy Mac the first night we met. I wish we were as close as we were.
- I also just wish I could have all the people I love and care about in one place. I’ve been all over the place in the past three years, and if I’ve learned anything about being abroad and being relocated it’s that 1) I love my family and 2) I have figured out that I am completely content with who I am and who I have right now. I am not looking for new friends nor do I care – I have found the people I care about and who care about me. What else could I ask for?
- A zillion things really…
- I could never be a vegetarian.
- Am I a city girl? I thought I was, but I honestly can’t wait for a night where all I hear is silence. But then I know I’ll get bored and restless. Why can’t I just be consistent for once instead of being bipolar (in the incorrect sense of the term) about everything? I’ll love a person one second and then hate them another and then go back to loving them. And of course at that point, nobody believes me because nobody understands how inconsistent I am.
- I used to love everybody, but when did I get so picky and snobby??
- I miss familiarity – familiar faces, familiar food, familiar habits…
- Health is the most important thing.
Well, there’s my diary entry for the day. So on a scale of one to crazy emotional bitch, how C.E.B. am I?