Kill Me Again

Ow.

Still, it wasn't anything surprising. I'd anticipated almost the exact same scenario--she isn't over him, we are in different places in life. It's not like I didn't expect things to turn out this way.

Now that I've found it, it's gone...maybe this is the final sign that I need to get out of this city. The last crushed hope in a series of crushed hopes. Maybe where I am in life right now is just go, go, go, no time for looking back, or regrets, or tears, or sympathy for those things. No time for comfort, or tether, or solace; but what's one more place to be cast out of with these things still unfound? For now it seems I'm condemned to drift, but as I previously established, I can take it. I think. It's going to be a long winter.

Most girls don't get the privilege of shooting me down twice. But sometimes there are exceptions. And if there can be exceptions after a whole year...who knows, maybe this is really the end of my efforts. If a whole year couldn't stop me from caring, what difference could the next seven months possibly make?

Does it hurt? Yes, it does, and I'm amazed I can even admit that, though I can't blame it on myself, because it didn't really have anything to do with anything under my control--though, somehow, that makes it worse

Now that that's out of the way, though, the only things I have to worry about are how to keep myself from collapsing into bed right this moment, and how to get out of it tomorrow morning.

Later: no more Stars of Track and Field or the first Mojave 3 album for a while, I've decided.