March 29, 2011

• 3.29.2011

  Dear diary,
  I now realize that I've got two major regrets in life.  One was a boy, and the other... unbelievably, has much more lasting damage.  When you can't turn the clock back on something so big, you either learn to embrace it or you become a bitter old person. Isn't that the case?  I thought I could appreciate the little things no matter what my life became as long as I had the little things to appreciate and the time to really pursue my passions, but lately... that time hasn't been there, and the little things alone aren't actually enough.

  Barring Rephe, who is by no means a "little thing", but I can't pretend he's my entire salvation when he's got his own life to figure out.  Most of the time, he needs somebody to pick him up off the ground just as much as I do, and hell if I actually have the time for that.  That's probably going to be my third regret, if it goes on for too much longer.

  I keep asking myself if this is all my life has to offer.  I wish that somebody could promise me that they'd rescue me, one day.  That would make me happy.  But it's just not like that, is it?  Somehow, I feel that this is related: Rephe came and picked me up from the clinic the other day with a picnic of kebabs, a blanket, and some candles.  He was going to take me out on some amazing date, but Birmingham, this belligerent city, decided to pour down on us the second he got there.  I usually love how rainy the city is... and I have to admit, it was appropriate.  We had our date anyway.  I really am rescued, in those moments... the problem is, I've always got to come back.

  We are still dreamers in our dead sleep.

  • 9:19 pm
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