Train tracks and swings

10-2-06 8:55 am

What to say, what to say… Feeling kinda funky this morning and I’m not sure why. It could be because I’m being empathic and feeling other people’s stuff.

This weekend was so good. It was really nice to go home and be. I went to sleep Friday night at 8, I was so tired. And then the whole family went hiking up at the Fish Hatchery in Pisgah all day Saturday. It was incredible, I had told my mom that I wanted to go find some waterfalls, and we did. And we sat underneath that waterfall and ate our incredibly gourmet bagged lunches that my mom made for us. I could have fallen asleep for a long time sitting down there. It was so serene, so peaceful. So… Right… And I wished a lot that Steve could be there, that I could share that side of me with him. When I got home yesterday we spent the evening together, wandering around Pullen Park and the train tracks, and we went and got some food from work, and we grilled steak and sea bass and drank wine and ate so well. We went and saw Jet Li’s Fearless, which was pretty good, except that I think the Cabernet went straight to my head and I was a bit intoxicated throughout the movie. But we got home after a very chilly ride and crawled in bed together. It was rather natural; I ended up falling asleep in his arms and waking up a couple of times in the night to him kissing me on my forehead. I know I was dreaming about things, probably talking in my sleep, and snoring, but not one harsh word, just, a kiss. I feel like such a weirdo, talking to him about my life, because I’ll sit and blabber for like 5 minutes and then realize what I’ve subjected him to. But he just listens and talks back to me, and doesn’t look at me like I’m nuts. (Which I am)

So, this morning, I don’t know why I’m down. Perhaps I’m just tired. I am losing my excitement about school, but I’m working on it, I need to get back on a schedule, for sleeping and studying. Its difficult when you are getting to know someone and you want to spend absolutely all your time with them. But, I’ll get there, because I have to…

The tears I've cried
aren't for me.
These tears are for you,
for your own wasted life.
They are for all your lies
that become your truths
and the reality you won't face.