Not big whatsoever...

Why would he feel it necessary to send me a message? We haven't talked for a while, probably over 2 months, and tonight I got a Facebook message asking me how my summer is and saying he misses me. Yeah. Right. Nice. I am SO not getting sucked back into liking him. I'm sure that isn't his intention but I know that it would be so easy a thing to have happen. Do I miss him? I didn't say that I did when I replied. I said it was weird not having him around. And it is. Definitely. I wonder how he will take that. Probably just as it is. I guess that's one thing that I've been envious of; he doesn't analyze or dramatize. I don't know if that's just a guy thing or what the deal is. In any case, he's lucky that he never dug deeper because then of course he would probably be more unsettled by the entire episode.
On another note... I need to get out of the house and have some goddamn fun. I'm going crazy. I love my nephews to DEATH more than ANYTHING in the ENTIRE WORLD. No kidding. But there is a part of me that really likes to go out and party and have fun, and that is the part that my weekend is at war with. My sister-in-law called me moments ago and asked if I was having fun. Of course I said. Ezekiel is a real sweety. Are you dropping e-bombs? lol. YEPP I SURE AM.
No, not actually, of course. But I kind of wish. Not while Ezekiel is staying here, but just in general. Most of the time. Uh-oh.
I guess we'll see.

Try and tell me that what never started didn't come crashing down...

Jewel once said that she began to use people for song material. I feel like I'm dangerously close to doing the same. Whenever I start to feel uninspired someone comes along and provides me with the perfect emotion to write with. And that's just things that have happened to me! People are constantly unloading their problems onto me and it would be too easy to write about them. Of course, I wouldn't want them to feel alienated but what if they never knew? It isn't like I would make it obvious. Poetry is never that obvious.
Last night I wrote my best song yet. Also, I FINALLY cried. FINALLY. I feel like I was just too numb and refused to think about how much loss I felt until last night when I faced the issue. It was cathartic. It was also lucrative. Sometimes I hate that the two are so connected. Nothing is organic anymore. Nothing is without a purpose.

Wish you never looked at me that way...

Why is it that we always want what we can't have? Or rather, what is percieved as unattainable.

I know, somehow, that I can have anything I want. I believe that if one sets their sites on something, a way can be found. This is true for any and all situations. I don't care if it's a guy a job or a million dollars. I could get it. Anyone could. So I guess its about figuring out how to get one's way. And isn't confidence half the battle? But I digress.
ANYWAY
Yesterday, at a surprise party, somehow asked me about "that really sweet guy (I) was with at the bookstore." It caught me off guard. I forgot that anyone there would know little enough to bring him up. It isn't that it's a touchy subject (or at least I didn't think it was) but that it just isn't something I like to talk about. It's all over and done and I've definitely moved on. But to be dragged back to that place left me feeling uncharacteristically raw. Why? Why did that hurt me? It isn't as if I haven't talked about the situation. I have. Plenty. Perhaps too much. And yet this inquiry struck me in an unfamiliar way. I just said I didn't want to talk about. I said it was a long story. So she just goes "oh..." and I had to walk away. It wasn't the kind of long story that I was about to divulge. Will I ever? Will future boyfriends and newer friends see pictures or leftover scraps of memory and ask? Will I tell? I can't be sure. But if I am not able to, what does that mean? As you may have noticed I have far more questions than answers. Of those I have precious few. I don't like to think that he had that much of an impact on my life. But if I were to try to actually convince myself of that it would be a lie. Yet, I still can't figure out what exactly happened. Maybe that is what is keeping me from feeling completely released. Then again, I'm still tangled up in a minor if demi-crippling way. Friends talk about him - how can I not contribute to those conversations when they are largely directed at or concentrated on me? - my sisters ask if we speak (god forbid he would have the audacity), all guys are compared (in a "so much better/hotter/nicer" sort of way) to this one indescretion.

That's what love is: a misstep.