There are certain things you can only realize when you’re home.
The memories you leave behind are gone forever. No matter how many pictures you took. No matter how many people you loved. No matter how much resentment you’ve carried from it since you left. It’s all gone.
I’ve forgotten things. I forgot all the things that I loved about home.
I left it all because I didn’t want to remember why my friendships didn’t work.
“You really do have high expectations.”
Clearly, I’ve gotten nowhere since then. I’ve spent years hating people. People who’ve moved on the moment I left their lives.
“Your personal statement actually really sucked. But that isn’t why you didn’t get into UW.”
My body has grown tired of my bitterness and harsh self-criticism.
“You didn’t get in because you didn’t want it that much.”
I can either die, or I keep leaving home. Either way, though, makes me a coward.
“She cared about you too. You just couldn’t see it, that’s all.”
It’s all gone. There are no questions. It shouldn’t follow me around anymore.
“You can move on from this. I know you can.”
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Eet - Regina Spektor
I got an iPhone 4 today. Not that I deserved it or anything, but I got one regardless. It’s gorgeous.
It’s so odd how one small and miniscule event can pop open a party popper of emotions and memories within a small span of two minutes.
I met someone. Someone new.
He treats me like a goddess, and he makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.
But it came with a price.
I hurt an old friend… again. The one thing I tried so desperately to prevent myself from doing. And the thing is, it really couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t completely his fault, and it wasn’t completely mine either.
It just didn’t work out.
Looking through old pictures of us while organizing all my old photos, all of the great times we had made me remember. And sure, it pokes at my tear-ducts when I reminisce, but I really wish it didn’t.
I made a choice, and I don’t regret making it at all. I just wish it didn’t cost me one of my most cherished of friendships.
My brother told me: “You weren’t being a cocktease. You were just being selfish.”
It makes sense. I was being selfish. But so was he. He refused to just let me go and move on. I refused to make it crystal clear that it was over. And when I told him I had met somebody, he broke down yet again. I want so badly for him to find closure and ultimately reach the happiness he deserves. He was the best first boyfriend I could have ever asked for.
I just couldn’t give him what he wanted.
The truth of the matter is, I had this vicious underlying doubt that grew larger and larger the more I was around him.
I couldn’t love him the way he loved me. And for that, I feel horribly rotten.
Somebody rip this guilt out of my heart please. I don’t want it anymore.
