Moving Day

I want to move to Pandora.

Exit Wounds.

I thought you hated me he said. And he said it with such hurt and conviction that I felt as if I had taken a blow to the gut. I've never been slapped with such an accusation. Never ever.

Whether or not I had said it or done anything to imply it, didn't matter. It was what I hadn't done. And time did not heal because time passed without either one of us ever saying anything. Most of the time I don't believe the words were there; not the right ones anyway.

I have realized, often the hard way, that I don't always invest in my relationships. I'm reserved, hesitant. I'm fickle and uncomfortable, even unmotivated. It's one thing to get along alright with people but it typically takes a lot for me to become friends with anyone - real friends. But things came pouring out on this night, words and tears which I hope were ointment to not quite healed wounds.

Good Tidings?

I don't have many words today. I'm flustered and frustrated at the same time. Which usually makes for good writing, not today though; good running the other day and probably today too if I could escape the clutches of retail. 'Tis the season for consumerism which leaves me little time for much else in exchange for that paycheck. I will be nearly moving into Borders Books this week and unfortunately the majority of my personal Christmas shopping can't be done there. I find myself taking a large step of faith - believing I have a job I haven't actually been offered, and thus, leaving the one I have now behind.
And the little brother is on his way home. Which means we'll be living together again...bracing myself for this whole next week.

Still a Little Bit

Oh me. When is it exactly that you're supposed to feel like an adult? Even if its different for everyone, there should still be a moment or time when your childish tendencies go away and you take on security and responsibility like.....how about you just stop feeling like a little kid. That's me so much of the time. I want an instinct to kick in, not so I don't ever have to make decisions, but so I'm always prepared and inclined towards the right. That was a mature way to go about things. Is this in reference to specific incident. Not that I am thinking of presently; only thinking. Tired of dodging out of fear. I suppose my definition of an adult is - someone who ceases to be afraid.


After deciding so many times that I'm not afraid. Not of bad dreams or the darkness; not of saying the wrong thing or choosing the wrong time, not of letting things go or appearing weak....I still find myself in utter fear. I'm constantly afraid of always wanting what I don't have. There could always be more I'm missing out on. And disappointment can have a crippling affect on me. What if, What if, what if plays like a broken record in my head. And what if I spend my whole life waiting?

I, like many girls, have a shoe fetish. I don't have a closet full of heels, but rather of tennis shoes. If I were able to pull it off style wise, I'd be in a heap of trouble financially. I've come to discover that most of my style is based primarily on what I think I can or cannot get away with, being that I simply don't have certain looks to accommodate all clothing. I always feel that I'm very limited on what I can pull off. Is that saying something about my self esteem? Or am just accepting of what I feel to be rather apparent? I don't know if it matters one way, maybe, but I do spot things that make me think, "That IS me!"