Reading Magnifico's journal

Nov 25, 2005 20:15 # 40726

Magnifico *** isn't happy...

Don't forget to write

92% | 2

It's thanksgiving break, I've had a couple of days to sit down, be with myself, and think. I came home to Memphis on Tuesday and saw some friends, then left for Louisiana with my family on wednesday for thanksgiving at my grandfather's house. Everything since Tuesday night has been downhill.

A long time ago, I wrote an entry called "because the truth could break us both," about a girl I dated for more than a year. Not too long after I wrote that, we got back together for a brief period of time before going off to college. I've spent a lot of time, I guess, subconsciously Pavlov-ing myself into thinking that I don't feel the same about her anymore, possibly a defence mechanism against the fact that we're living six hours away from each other and will be leading very crazy lives the next four years. I saw her on Tuesday, with the new guy. He came with her for a day from college before going back to who knows where. About a week prior to this I had found a few pictures of her that I forgot I had taken with me, and just seeing her face hurt more than I could have imagined. I had planned to talk to her when I got back, but this threw a wrench in the whole deal.

So here I sit, some 400 miles from what used to be home and another 130 or so from what's my new home. I go back to Memphis tomorrow, Conway on Sunday. But at some point, I'm going to see her, and I don't know what I'm going to do or say. It took me months to realise that I really do love her, and not in some hokey high school way. She understood me, she stood by me, she put *up* with me, with my on-again, off-again depression, my borderline agoraphobic hermit-like behaviour, everything. And now she has somebody else. I know I should let it die, let her move on and be with somebody else, somebody who can offer her stability, but this is the girl that would get pissed off when I didn't tell her about how I was feeling. That's another reason why I love her, too; she'd call me on my bullshit and forced me to communicate when I would have just pushed it all down until everything I wouldn't say just bursts out uncontrollably.

There are times where I'd just as soon not be living. . .

Thbbbbt


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