you're done.

aaaaaand stop.
thanks.

you just have to make things difficult, don't you?
GOD.




boys are frustrating.

so you're finally home.

and now what?
you're excited and anxious and nervous and depressed and disappointed and comfortable and confused.



was this worth it?
was leaving the right decision?
was coming back?
how the hell are you going to make it the rest of the week?



yeah.
good question.

and we're moving on

some nights the painkillers make the pain even worse



(we spent the whole next week getting high)

on the other hand

it's like i can't possibly be myself
i can't possibly be grateful for anything & everything
which is what i ultimately strive for
until i get home from this.

maybe i just really need to do things on my own for a little while.
maybe i really need to drive alone all night in the dark.
maybe i just need a break.

and then it comes back around

if everything is circular what does that make us?



and this week?
it's okay, it's been good either way.

thanksgiving break is just 2 days away: 5 classes, 2 papers and a ride to the airport for a friend, then i'm done.

it feels like i'm a better person here, but i do miss home.

not on purpose

you might never want me but that doesn't mean that you won't get me high.

you make me feel better about stuff.

if we're being honest here.

at the back of every mind,
the secret, unrealized undertone to every thought,
every wish on every birthday candle or clock or eyelash or shooting star or dandelion;
every accidentally selfish prayer or intention.
it boils down to this sentiment:

but then again,

there is the kind of night where i'm proud to have done things i'm not proud of.

and the next day i want to tell everyone but there is no way i could explain it in my own words because no matter what it will come out wrong.

so i'm stuck being psyched for myself all in my own head.

at least someone is.

(less self-pity and more ironic self-awareness.)