| | Lo and behold, my Xanga lives again. As much as I'd like to believe I'm not really dependant on blogging, I am. Just reading everyone else's can only last me so long. I need to speak.
I think people are a lot like Chicago.
Jorie broke up with me last night. When I've told people, they've been like "Fuck that girl!"...and, yunno, it's cool that people are behind me, but it's not like that. I don't hate her. But,...
The city always looks as if it's in a state of constant renewal and transition.
...I'll admit, I've never been this heartbroken. She was the first girl I'd ever told that I love her. For you P/O-ing men, remember what Don used to say about telling a girl you love her? The thought crossed my mind more than once, though I ne'er told her that.
You've helped me remember what it's like to feel like me...
[[Well, I take it back. I told Alison Bailey I loved her, but I was too immature to even know what it meant back then.]]
I wonder, though, what exactly you're learning from me just yet.
But yeah, I've spent the last few days as a big emotional timebomb. It's not like I didn't know it was coming. She hadn't been herself when talking to me for a few weeks--I knew it was on its way. Doesn't make it hurt less. From the time she walked into my room last night, after not having seen her for two weeks, she said maybe a dozen words to me--and if you know Jor, you know that's a serious problem.
I'd wait forever to see you if it meant I got to kiss you one more time.
We napped, went to Anchor Splash, we drove around, and went for a walk at SMWC. I think that might have been the last time I'll ever see her. I wish I had savored it more, instead of just walking away with tears in my eyes.
And I know I am still learing the patience to accept the fact that somtimes we can't have that instat gratification we so long for....
I've read the novel of a letter she wrote be a few times over since then. It was only written a month ago. I wish things didn't change so much so quickly, though it's neither of our faults. Maybe they didn't change--just the circumstances around them. Vague consolation.
...but I get to learn it with you.
She sent me a package last week, containing the aforementioned novella of a letter, along with a photo of her, an envelope that had her perfume on it, and a secondary letter that said "Don't open unless you've had a really bad day." I opened it last night.
But I hope you can hear my voice as you read these words...
It makes me think that you knew it was going to happen the whole time.
Be well, darling.
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| | Posted 2/12/2006 3:54 AM - 1 view
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