the end of the end of the end

It's not that I'm not interested.  It's not that I don't think about the what ifs.  It's not that I don't want it to go somewhere.  It's that I know the timing is wrong.  A long time ago JR kept saying that I wanted to play the field; was't ready to find a one.  I never told him I was too insecure to try and pursue something serious with him.  He was too beautiful in my eyes.  I felt that once he got to know me and spend time with me, he would lose interest.  I still think like that.  That moment in my life is now in the open.
Not like that feel that with IJ, my confidence is boosted muchly than the past.  I see him as not ready for a one. I see him still feeling like an attraction, not ready, but wanting to be around people to be free around people.  That is what my gut instinct tells me.
I'm running and sabotaging it anyway.  I'll always do that.  I am still me.  But I think there's a reason beyond my fucked up problems.  Maybe.

Love Spent

I don't understand.  Foot in the door waiting for the better to spring up.  I can only hope you find it.  Actually, who actually hopes for that?  I don't.  I guess it just stings right now.  You jumped on the next best visual forgetting all the visceral we shared.  When you gonna come into reality?  End angry rant.

convo

My sister.  She told me that I had a core of awesomeness that I haven't even touched.  I have everything going for me, I just need to stop being a coward and tap into it and be great.  I see her that way.  Only I see that she is tapping into it.  I love her.  We are so similar.  I love our honest, loving connection.

I'm currently obsessed with this song:

Where life is perfect.

Go to Marz

Not so good.  Poor tests.  Poor bread count.  Scraping bottom and I don't want to know what's underneath.  Not so good.  Today.
New. Venlafaxine.  So far really good.  Good placebo.  Placebo effect.  Effective.  New spark.  New.

So carry on.

As for everything else.  I forgot what I wanted to say.  House clean, except for the papers.  The papers that have been there since six years ago.  Or something.
"But you didn't have to cut me off."  Stuck in my head.  Great song.  I don't want to get used to this certain kind of sadness.  Not the end, not always the end.
"Hold me like your money."

What if I had fallen in?

What do you get when you ask Angry Angela to tell her sister Hysterical Hillary to inform Fatty Felicia that she cannot have Jack in the Box tonight?  They are triplets, just turned 15 years old, it's that time of month.  Yeah, welcome to my head.
I slept in until way too late and then did homework like a marathon runner with brief water and pee breaks.
Jump to me at the gym and trying.
Take out the recycling.
I was in a daze all day today and still feel like it.  While I was at the gym, I thought about just accepting that the daze was the new life.  I hope not.  I don't like it.
I do like the silk robe.  But it's about too hot these days.  Grr.  I'm over the Phoenix summer.

Easter passed over

He woke up, 7:30 bright and early.  It was a new thing for him, to wake up so early; early since just a few weeks earlier crawling out of bed before 9 was a feat of greatest proportions.  Immediately thoughts of the movie the previous night played in his mind's eye: Catniss' expression when Peeta didn't want to pretend, his look into her eyes on the train home after The Games.
Shower.
Clean up some clutter.  Still not the desk.  Never the desk.  Last place on earth to get organized.  Cleaning merely meant putting the piles of paper elsewhere in the room, on a seat, floor, anywhere but on the glass desk top.
Oatmeal, coffee.  Not in that order.
Watch a movie of Argentine origin.  Let's call it Plan B.  The movie was great, good-ish.  Okay, he liked it.  He liked how there was a lot of "thinking time" in the movie.  Lots to think about.  People don't just rush in.  Some do, but they are fools.  These characters thought a lot about where they were going.  Or so it seemed.  Maybe it was just a weekend.  Weekend.  That show was amazing.  He was still in a daze over it.  Well done.  They tried, kind of, but tried still.  Kind of.  But they did entertain the thought of trying.  They grew.  One grew.  They both may have grown.  He grew: it allowed a few precious tear drops to fall from his dry eyes.  He wishes he could cry more.  He feels like he has sobs that are yearning to come out.  But they cannot.  He doesn't suppress them, they just don't come.  Sobs feel good.  Releasing the emotion feels good.  He likes to cry but cannot so instead listens to lots of sad songs.  These sad movies are a new venture.  He's watched more movies in the past four days than he has in the previous four months.
A phone call with a dear friend who was celebrating graduating pharmacy school and her new tattoos in honor of her achievement.  She's got issues but he was only all too happy to talk to her, and express his issues too.  But hers are more interesting for him.  They involve scandal in a benign sense of the word.  Not much more than any other stressed mother about to graduate a doctorate program.  Good for her.
Not much else.  Kramer vs. Kramer. A movie he's been meaning to get through.  Good show.  Safeway and run into an attractive older man, attractive friend.  Attractive and partnered friend.  Run into him at Safeway in front of the chocolate.  Attractive Friend looked good, he always does.  He keeps up appearances well.  Damn you chocolate aisle.