Just A Happy Little Blogger Swaying in the Wind

Hahaha I don't know what ^that means. It just felt right.

Things I've been doing a lot of lately:

*Barista-ing like a champ, cause hey, every penny counts
*recognizing every possible pun
*sleeping like a baby
*scratching my legs off, thanks to who knows what
*singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs
*re-associating my favorite music
*loving being loyal to James Mercer
*realizing I don't really want to hear Colin Meloy sing ever again
*wishing Taco Bell had never used Modern English's "I Melt With You"
*using my turn signals
*relying on my iPhone to tell me where the hey I am
*reading Simon van Booy (I actually don't advise it--I just don't like leaving books half-read)
*musing on the challenge the Internet poses to valuable reading material
*wanting a weekend subscription to New York Times
*slapping myself for using my first college semester as an academic burn semester
*brushing the dirt off and planning to do better cause even though I had a lot of sh!t to wrestle with, I always will
*playing Tap Tap Revenge 4
*winning and losing and winning Words with Frenemies
*thanking Tetris for existing
*raising my eyebrows
*scrunching my nose
*whistling the Harry Potter theme song
*fantasizing about Bryant Park in the springtime
*thanking God for everything
*having the last word
*ruling boys out
*smiling at how much time I save by doing that
*making playdates with girlfriends
*eating scones and cupcakes and loaf cakes and muffins
*laughing at Skye because she's hella funny
*marveling at how my little brother is a man
*wanting a little dream car
*stressing about where to spend my sophomore year of college
*remembering that stressing is a moot hobby
*praying
*praying
*praying
*....using the present progressive tense

Mona Lisa

Interesting, isn't it, the way brokenness builds. Up and down and on top of. Prepositional decay.

I realized today the way the depth of my heartbreak reflected the depth of the love that caused it. I knew the deal; give away as much of my heart as I was willing to risk breaking. I signed the deal with a forever-sort-of-blood, and repurposing forever-sort-of-blood is painful. But I am happy that I gave freely. I struggle to reign in the no-matter-what love I'd committed. If this had happened under other circumstances, the kind I hoped for for too long, I would have loved forever. Srsly. Isn't that scary? Instead, I landed on the Candyland square that slides me back three squares--next go around I'll turn left at the fork.

I know I keep hammering the same subject. Forgive me; the same subject keeps hammering me.

Chin Up, Heads up

I was considering starting a new blog and only telling certain people where it was... starting over with a clean writing slate to start my new life slate. But I consider that quitting.

I choose instead to refuse to overlook the fact that I was remarkably happy for a long time. I was happy because I was so in love I couldn't understand it. I was happy because I loved well and was loved well. I learned what it takes to know somebody, and I learned what it means to be known. This is more of a stamp on me than all of you; I need to air out the truth before I bury it in bitterness. If I bury it, rain will wash its shield away, and I'm sick and tired of standing in the rain.

He doesn't want me. He doesn't love me. I'm not what's best for him. I thought I knew best and I didn't. There is doubtlessly someone better for me. Though I'll have to see it to believe it, there is someone better for him. (hahah, classic spin on that, eh? whatevs, it's the truth, yo.) I don't love him anymore. We are not headed in the same direction. We will not get married, we will not have children, and we will not see our children have children. I need new associations for my favorite music, and I need a new perfume. This month and a half was torturous, and I'd like some cussin sunshine, already. My happiness has been wearing a raincoat, and it's time to break out the minidress. Hoots and hollers accepted.

[Pandora's current needle in my voodoo life: "Walking With A Ghost" - Tegan and Sara. never fails.]

I need to stop questioning if my feelings are feelings or coping mechanisms. Everything's a damn coping mechanism, and everything's a damn feeling. Let's cope and feel and cope some more. I can simultaneously cope and feel, and I intend to. I will not find new space for my thoughts because my thoughts go here. He'll always know where to find them, and that's unnerving, but at this point, I feel most unnerved when I'm not unnerved.

Before you pat yourself on the back for seeing through me, remember that this transparency isn't invisible (ooooh). This is an entry here in this blog because I need it to be. Cliches are only cliches because they meant enough to be overused until the imaginary threshold of significance voted them off the Island of Profundity. Well this is my blog, and I'm sunbathing on a personalized Island of Profundity. You might not care to join me, but you're welcome regardless. You might have to kayak over from yours, but I'll be waiting with Scrabble and rum punch.

Cheers.