Reality Check

It was easier in college. I was always in transition. I moved in and out every single semester during those 4 years. My schedule changed every semester. I met new people all the time. Walked different routes to class. Went to different bars. Things were changing all the time.

But how do you deal when your life isn't in transition? When you like your life the way it is. You like your job and where you live and who you spend your time with.

I like these streets. I like this route to work. I like my bathroom, my bedroom, my living room, my kitchen. I like this routine. I'm trying to cancel utilities and set up my mail forwarding and I just can't do it. I'm trying to pack and I just can't. I just want to lay in my bed - our bed - all day. Waiting for it to change. Waiting to wake up from this nightmare.

And the reality is I only have one night left in a house I was ready to spend years in, with someone I was ready to spend my life with.

My heart aches.

The Ballad of Love and Hate

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive. 
He screams o'er the sidewalk and into the drive. 
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55, 
 And the clock in the kitchen is slow. 

Love has been waiting, patient and kind. 
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign, 
That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind, 
Will make it back safe to her arms. 

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door. 
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor. 
He says "Love, I'm sorry", and she says, "What for? 
I'm yours and that's it, Whatever. 
I should not have been gone for so long. 
I'm yours and that's it, forever." 

You're mine and that's it, forever.

For those of you keeping count, this is actually a reblog from 2011.

NYC Style

Escape from reality, pt. II this weekend in NYC. Trying to get excited about packing.

images via Pinterest

Greetings from Orlando

Here for work, not necessarily for play. Although, if you have been keeping up with my life/this blog you know it's a much needed escape from reality. 

That Point

At some time every day I get exhausted with work, with pretending, and all I want to do is look at pictures of you, talk to you, think about you, cry about you.

Random emails and IMs to you used to get me through the day and make me smile and excited to see you. And now those are gone.

And I just realized the point at which I give up and look for you each day is right around the time you call me and say you are on your way home from work and ask what I am doing.

Sad face.

Nostalgia

Feeling it today. Bad.