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what i choose is my choice

im feeling like a book might be ready to poor out on these pages. i think its ready, without me even having to think, once.
its at times like this when i really miss my old best friend. because, well, just because. i guess because with my new friends, they dont know my past. they dont know what has shaped me into what i am. and sometimes that makes me feel fake. like they dont know who i really am. but with her, she knew. she was there. for a huge chunk of my life. we went through so much together, and its just hard to know that i dont have anyone in my life that knows the stories, no one that was really there. thats hard because i cant laugh with anyone about them. no one would understand, except her. but i would never get enough courage to call her. well, actually i did. we talked when william broke up with me. i called her. we talked for a couple of minutes, but she never called me back like she said she would. so i just let it go. but, ive been told that there is a picture of us hanging up in her room, still. and that, alone, means a ton. regardless, i miss her.
im scared that my heart isnt strong enough. i just feel so weak. i feel so fucking weak.
sometimes i wish that i could leave it here, like they left me here, alone.
i feel so burned.
maybe all my life i have hung around the wrong crowd. and ive managed to push all the important ones away because, well, just because. because they couldnt keep up back then. because back then, even i couldnt keep up with myself.
because i set these words on fire. and i watched them burn across your face. i just sat back and enjoyed. because you are much more beautiful burnt.
but its not as easy as summing it up with a smile. because fake things rust. and ive spent so much time feeling rusty.
because your voice still makes me shake. it still gets to me. it makes me shake in places that you could only touch.
you still bring me to my knees.
im weak.
god, im so fucking weak.

why does none of this make sense?
why isnt it as easy as growing some fight and taking control and doing the things that i really want to fucking do?
maybe its because i lost the sense of knowing what makes me happy.
i hope you read this. and i hope that it makes you smile.
you fucking bitch.

8:55 p.m. - 2004-11-25

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