Listening to: Just A Dream
Well, it seems my last journal was nearly 3 years ago. And, needless to say, life changed in three years inevitably. People grow up, move along. Some people stay the same and those continuing on finally realize that people aren't who they thought they were. I have noticed the differences in people who went to college, and some who haven't, and those who stayed behind for community college or jobs and who haven't seemed to change much.
Some people try to rekindle relationships they ended, or let slip away. I've had experiences with two. One, I don't much care, because it's hardly a big deal. The second, throws me off. Partly because I very well might still have feelings for this person because of our "history," but more because of how it simply amazes me that I let myself get to that point. I let myself become the wide open front door with a welcome mat, that says come on in with your dirty feet and your chainsaws, my heart is up the stairs and to the right. Those who have wronged me know that I'm this pushover, this... thing that can just flip a new side to the pillow and forget about the other. And that is fairly accurate. I become desperate and needy for attention, for anything, keeping talking to someone if the conversation is going south simply because I can't stand that the conversation might end. It's a bad quality to have, and yet, I can't shake it.
I've been told that I am the most cynical person they have ever met. That I would tear down every couple I see simply because of my own rage based on that of my personal history. But this counteracts with everything I feel inside; does it make me both? I have these faulty moments where I think that love is out there and I can find it, and I desperately search for it. Or are my faulty moments when I realize the previous thought is wrong, and that it doesn't exist? Or maybe I'm both at times, but for the other 90% of the time I just don't care about anything or anyone.
I've moved in with my mother and her new husband for the summer between school years. The newlywed atmosphere is suffocating, to say the least. I am happy that she's happy, and the new man is tenfolds better than my father. But I'm caught between wanting the same thing and wanting to run away from it. I could blame it on my past. I could blame it on falling in love. Maybe I fell many times, maybe it was just that one person, or maybe it was none of them and I couldn't blame it on that. Falling in, falling out, trudging through the sticky mess that is this "glorious love" everyone speaks of. Who knows if I'll find it here in this tiny town in the South. If not, that's fine with me too.