Hole here and holes there.

I feel tired. I am not sure if I can do this anymore. I need to go home soon, but before I do I have to get all of this done. It needs to get done. Come on, I need to get it on it, do it. I can do this.

I don't know what is exactly wrong anymore. There is something about my old balance that doesn't work anymore. This is the Cold War, the cold war against myself. I am not pleased with who I am, there is just something about it that immediately pushes my head to explode and those terrible headaches come back again. It hurts to be so undefined. It hurst to be so displeased with the most minor things. That had never happened to my jeans before and now that it has its a constan reminder of what's going on. I am tired of helping, of being there and just not 'not getting' anything in return, but getting the worst in return. I'd prefer to not have to be there, to not have to receive whatever gets returned. I feel wholed, I feel too big and growing, too filled with remorse or something of the kind. I need to go. I need to leave and stop being who I am for a change.

I need a mirror and you are not it. You can't be that for me. The sincerity that begins my every sentence is a plea and a wish for it to come from you. But it is my responsibility, I just don't see it though. I don't have the strength to be better, to do what is asked, to grow. The strength, the discipline, the humanity, I need them to be better because better I should be. I haven't felt this innadequate with myself in so long in being who I am. In deciding whether I am right or not, good or not, I have come in an insane fluctuation that is killing me. It hurts. I need the strength. I need a better me, ir just someone who cares at all.

The owl I wish I was.

I wonder if someday you will figure out why I did this. I wonder if you will understand how you made me feel, and the meaning that I had in being so above you. I wonder if you won't see it as 'leaving the nest' but more of a good bye. Because I do want to leave.
It's a decision made.
It is always this way with me. Think about it, last year around this same time, same planning of a trip, same moving on. I am ready to leave this behind. I don't want to stand here and be on the side. Maybe I was just not meant to be in groups. But I have to wonder is it about me? Why is it that I seem to not expect anything, except to be appreciated, but now I needed so much more. I wonder if it was my fault for saying otherwise, and making you believe that you didn't have to be a friend. At the same time though, I don't believe that you can choose when you want to be a friend.
However, any one of you, few that you are though, would tell me that for me to hold a friendship, I need to have the upper hand or something of that sort. That I need to be needed. And I guess that's right. But that doesn't mean that I hold myself to a higher standard, or does it? Maybe I just don't like feeling thrown away?
I feel like it was just so many things at once. It all added up again and I just want to be done. I hate the hectic feeling I get when I am in this type of situation and I just prefer to let go. It wasn't a "leaving the nest," it was a good-bye. I just want to leave it behind. Leave them into memories that I seem to love so damn much.

I don't think you will ever understand.

Funny Face. Yeah, put on your Funny Face.

--> The slow fate of love.
-->Who are my friends is coming up.
--> Oct. 20th.
--> pinpoint my qualities.
--> Those few ppl we stop talking to and those who still reappear.
--> Ultimately, laughs.

Nothing, just an echo to be forgotten.

I drummed for you today.
I sang for you today.
I didn't speak for you today.

It went well. But I never missed you as much as I missed you last night. I called and tried to get you back. Now, that I have done this, you won't let me bring you back. This is the second strike, yet I am already out.
This is real, and finally I began to tear up, to feel you gone. It is good though. I understand that this is the better. I wonder if you do though, if you ever will understand how much I cared, and how much I needed you to care.
All I can think of is that you are gone, and for once, I feel a sense of what is total, of what is over. You don't understand. And they say I needed to have faith. Faith and more faith that you felt, that your words were there in the air we breathe. But I wonder if you had faith, I need somebody with that devotion, and now you are gone.
I wonder if it hurt me or you. I don't understand or feel the taste of pain. I feel numb because you didn't answer. I can only remember. In any case, you never answer. The memories, no, no. The memoirs of me and you, of you looking at me, of me thinking of you, of you being my past, my one past, those are there and they will stay to cover up my numbness.
The echo of who we could have been will always sound of my capricious speech, of your one or two liners, the echo of your touch. Somehow, so many other things were still left in that to do list, that you qualified as a 'I hope so' list, never a must. All I needed was a must, a must from you, at any time. I got the simplicity, the simplicity we always wanted, the simplicity of just letting go.

And sometimes it's hard to let you go, only echos left finally.