Its me! Erratic! You know, Erratic? Ugh. Really? You don't remember? Sigh. I will start from the beginning...
Please forgive me, for I have been an asshole. (Although, I have to say, when proofreading, that originally said "Please forgive me, for I have an asshole. I laughed for like 10 minutes. You can't make this shit up.)
Things have been crazy lately. My personal crisis of "what do I want to be when I grow up" is subsiding, for the most part. I know it is a decision I have to make, but it no longer feels like it is standing over me saying "do it now" until I break. Work has been the bane of my existence, as per usual.
There was a slight falling out with the boy, which brought us that much closer. I have a hard time trusting people's intentions. I believe that the entire world hates me and wants to fuck me over in some way or another. OK, maybe it is less dramatic than that, but, you know, trust issues. They suck. Moving on. I guess that we needed to have this great big 3-day long fight in order for me to see how silly that is. To realize that he wants me and that the rest we will figure out along the way. I know he is the person I am meant to spend the rest of my life with and I need to realize that I am that to him too. But, even as I typed that, I was thinking, do you really want to put that in writing because what if it is not true and he leaves you and you have to tell all 30 of your readers that you were wrong because OMG YOU PUT IT OUT THERE THAT HE IS THE ONE. Sigh. Baby steps. The crazy will never go away.
We also have started "integrating." Cleaning out all of my crap, some of his crap, and making room for OUR crap. When people say that he with the most stuff dies happy? (I think I made that up.) Well, they are wrong. I found, MY HIGH SCHOOL ID. True story. And as soon as I take the time to blur out a bunch of crap, I am posting it here. The Internet needs to know that I was once ridiculously tan, ridiculously skinny, and ridiculously without curly hair. The best part about the high school ID? I remember that shirt. It is a navy blue polo and one time, this boy (Andy something) told me that color made me look beautiful. To this day, I own a blue polo shirt. I probably always will.
So, that is what is going on with me, in the most random way I could think of. I live to serve and we all know well composed, sane posts just aren't my thing.
Posts
2 comments:
I'm only on the second paragraph and am laughing out loud at my desk.
And this is too perfect (and also not made up) -- the word verficiation I must type in for this comment is "holing".
My day is made.
I know exactly what you mean about writing it down and then having to retract it. I think about that all the time, especially with the recent snafu with my dude. But good for you, Miss Bravery.
Post a Comment