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. 

This Fall

Apologies in advance for those of you who read this blog for cute style inspiration, fun things to do in St. Louis and my boring weekend to do lists. This blog is first and foremost for me and there's some stuff I need to get off my chest. Shit's about to get real.

Fall used to be my favorite time of year in St. Louis. There were so many festivals, Oktoberfest, balloon races in Forest Park, perfect weather for walks and visits to the Tower Grove Farmers Market. It was the best time for leaves on the street, the Best of Missouri Markets, the Shaw Art Fair, decorating pumpkins for my front porch, stops in at the Companion Early Bird Outlet for some bread and pastries. It was late season Cardinals games, and if we were lucky a World Series run. It was a time for sweaters and jackets and beards and beers and everything I loved.

But this year my fall is different. 

It feels isolated and lonely and unmotivated.

I feel like just sitting at home and watching TV and eating Ben and Jerry's. Or maybe just sleeping. Or maybe just laying there. Not sleeping, not reading, not thinking.

I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to see anyone.

Yet, at the same time I am craving attention. I want to be seen, be heard, be held, be loved. Misery doesn't love company, it loves an audience.

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to stop crying. I want to feel nothing when I feel something, and I want to feel something when I feel nothing.

I'll probably read this someday - maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe a year from now - and I'll regret it. I'll think I sound pathetic or sad or that I was feeling this way over nothing and no one. I'll probably take it down.

But today, this fall, this is how I'm feeling.