"How do you reply, when whatever you'll say will just make things worse? Tell me, how do you reply then?"
Can't wait for Grimm to return in March. Arrow's next airing is tonight, so I'm watching that, too. I've been spending a lot of time listening to songs by bands like Dear Juliet, Parachute and The Morning Light lately.
So I read a note I wrote on FaceBook a couple years ago. Something about, 25 random things about me. It was during the time when most of my friends still wrote, and was in the habit of tagging one another with things like that.
Reading it made me realize how little had changed. I have a girlfriend. I became happy for a time. Those are pretty much the only two differences I can think of.
I'm still the person who loathes to start a conversation, be it online or in real life. I'm still the person most people don't start a conversation with. I'm still the person no one really likes talking to.
I thought it was something I had come to terms with.
I only just realized that I hadn't. At least, not completely.
I dunno anymore. I just don't.
One of the reasons I stopped blogging sounds stupid, but it's true: People started reading it. To be more precise, people I know started reading it. I started having to censor stuff, make things up, edit my thoughts, just to keep up an image. And now that image is coming back to bite me with a vengeance.
It's hard to write about your side of the story when people reading it have already judged how things happened, or how they're supposed to be, or best yet, you. You can't write about how it affected you, how it hurt you, how it made you feel, without people saying that you're turning the story around, or trying to get sympathy, or turning it around so that you're the victim, or whatever.
The problem, though, is that to you, that is what happened.
I haven't felt this messed up in a long, long time.
About one and a half years, to be more exact.
The best part about feeling this way is that when you're happy, truly happy, you forget how it felt like. That is, until it all starts crumbling in front of your eyes. Especially when it's your fault.
I'm screwing things up royally with my girlfriend. Simply said, she's been amazing while I've been... everything but. I just don't know how to be the perfect boyfriend for her. I've been trying. She deserves that from me.
She's my angel. My princess. The thief who stole my heart. I wake up everyday to her face, and how much I miss seeing it. I still find it hard to believe she's mine.
But what do I do? I seem to do everything that'll push her away. I'm unromantic. I'm annoying. I'm harsh. What does she see in me, I'll never understand, and all I can do is hope that she never sees that she could get better. Selfish, but she's the only person to ever make me happy; doesn't that warrant some selfishness?
Inhaler is staring at me from across the room.
Salut,
~J
"I'm falling apart, so watch me as I unravel tonight."
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
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Why "Flawed Perfection"?
I chose "Flawed Perfection" because nice ones such as "Honest Lies" and "Organized Chaos" were already chosen. In fact, Flawed Perfection was already chosen as well, but among all my ideas, this one was my favourite.
I like the reminder that everything is flawed perfectly.
I like the reminder that everything is flawed perfectly.
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