Fighting.

Here's another shot, dedicated to knowing you were worth fighting for.

Two Great Conversations in One Night.

I'm mentally drained. I'm too tired of being alone.

I'm Glad Good People Move On.

Why does this oval have a pizza inside of it?

After much deep thought and re-editing, this is what I came up with. I hide.

a-b.

It's always new and interesting people. Sometimes they're the same archetypes, but they're always interesting.

Closing time.

I'm writing you out of my life story.

October 6th, 2008

From the moment he saw her, he knew she'd be trouble.  She had a skip in her step and a swagger to die for. He idolized her instantly. Her scent was familiar, but he just couldn't place it.  The attraction was immediate.  Their interactions were fleeting, but he knew there was something more to her.  The initial emotional investments had wonderful returns, but he slowly recognized her flaws, the flaws which would eventually destroy their otherwise perfect bond.  First and foremost, she was spoken for.  Secondly, she was afflicted with the most common disease people are capable of having: she didn't really know what she wanted, but neither did he.  They spent their time together avoiding the most obvious problems, her here-and-now, her past, and her future, he simply struggled with understanding it all, once again.  They held each other as if nothing else mattered.  Their guilt was minimal, young and naive, yet, as wise as they thought they could be. The time apart is what killed him.  During their initial interactions he decided he had to be selfless in order to help her.  He failed.  He wanted to be wanted, she simply needed to be appreciated.  Conflict arose in the form of over acceptance.  When did he stop being who he was, and start being who she needed him to be?  She became another project to him, another project in a long line of projects that eventually failed.  His only comfort was knowing he thought he was trying his best.  Her comforts laid in knowing someone cared more than just saying they cared.  The labels became confusing, he'd ask himself, what are "we,"? She probably wouldn't have had an answer, if he'd ever found the courage to ask.  He didn't fear rejection, he was familiar with that particular emotion, he feared rejection, from her.  He found sleep through a common mantra, "sometimes, people just need people," it never answered all the lingering questions, but it certainly allowed for the luxury of dreams.    

notes and good friends.

Can't wait to see Cursive tonight!!!