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we all spill our guts.

it used to be so easy for me to roll you up and make you mine. i used to enjoy the belief that you were mine and no one elses. and now, i just don't believe in it at all.
until you stop living in your past, you will have no future with me.

i'm so into thinking that the world is constantly out to get me. and anytime things don't go my way, it's a personal attack on me, and who i am.
so, i sat down and mathematically concocted this beautiful plan about how things are going to go. and everything added up exactly right. it was perfect.
and the best feeling of all was the fact that i could rip it all up. to shreds. to bits and pieces. and i could stomp on them. and make them inferior to who i was.
i'm really not up for things going perfect. perfect is fucking boring. i don't want science or math to figure my shit out. i want nature. i want destiny to make my plans, and i want a pretty little sail so i can cruise on through them. (even if sometimes the water gets a little rough).
i'm a tough girl. i think i proved that. fair and square.
so, here i am, my imperfections and all. this perfect little straight A college junior (almost a senior, thank you very much), with only one year left of playing the sport that made everything possible for me, making money at a perfect little job with the perfect little people. i've got my own little downfalls.
and you just happen to be one of them.
and you know it.
(why do things always turn into a discussion about you?) because i just want you to know that my dad asked when you came home, and i said "i don't care."
i want you to drown in regret. for saying goodbye. to everything that you loved. i wish i could laugh at you when you send me those emails and tell me that you miss me and that you cant wait to see me.
i wish it was that simple.

i've fucking said too much already.

9:33 p.m. - 2006-01-11

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