I’ve complained like a bastard to every single person who was willing to listen about how tired I’ve been this week. Midterms and all. However, this last 2 days I finally had the chance to sleep… Did I take it?
Huh… That would be like asking “Did Dylan end up with Brenda…?” Ok, (please ignore the reference) I’ll just tell you.
No. I did not (Dylan didn’t either). I never do; no matter how hard I push myself to do it, something else captures my attention. This time I decided to read old journals.
That was… Interesting, to say the least.
I was this semi-artistic fifteen year old weirdo, who actually saw herself as some kind of poet or writer. I used to dramatize things so much; have long conversations with myself about god, future, civilization and life itself… Brilliant and deep for the ignorant eye. Someone who had lived it and be past it would’ve just described me as an: over-analytical pussy.
I hate to admit it, since I fancy myself a “let’s burn our bra” feminist most of the times… But I leant this from guy. My (newly) exboyfriend. Go figure.
In those three and a half years we were together he taught me to enjoy life. That’s it. Just enjoy it, don’t ask questions, don’t make excuses, and never, ever, look for reasons not to. With a little sense of humor I realized nothing is really that bad, I just had to quit being such a little bitch about everything.
The thing is, this past month… In other words, since he left, I forgot that. It’s kind of a blur now; I'm guessing I tried so damn hard to not be that “I want to stay in bed all day crying while I watch a ‘Walk to Remember’ in my pj’s” girl that I kept my mind busy with shit that just got me down.
I could go on and on with this non-sense, but that would be thinking about it too much... I guess all I wanted to do is a little tribute to the guy who changed my way of thinking. Thank him (in a very 2010 style) for all the love he gave me, making me laugh always, three amazing years and the summer of 2009:
I begged my (… eh) “ex” not to visit my blog once he left, it would be way too embarrassing (and after reading this yourself, I think you understand where I'm coming from). Nevertheless, if, for some reason, he decides to ignore my petition… I’ll take the chance to confess this to him: I had a dirty dream about you last night, it was niiiiice ;D