kelland

I long for the days when I could've told you differently. When I could've fabricated a story and a person behind the story to make it all more worth your time. I regret the occasions I acted in self-defense and sat isolated as a result, and I want to take them back now, so please allow me to. I still wanted to be friends; I really did. And I tried ever afterwards to make it seem like it was not an impossible feat. I didn't wear my heart on my sleeve for the sake of dignity; yours and mine. I remember lying flat on my back, looking up at the stars, and seeing one in particular streak across the sky, with you lying beside me to witness the moment and the perfection behind it. And at that moment, I knew we were stable. From the very beginning, I thought we were stable. It is only now, in the damp quiet of a nearing spring, that I am able to look back and actually feel sorry. I wanted to be people, just two people exchanging meaning, with no amends necessary. And even if I didn't do anything wrong, I'm sorry. I just wanted to say that I really am sorry, sorry for my persistence and my pleas and my sobbing and my drama, and I hope that when you remember me or speak of me, it's for the friendship we used to have and not for the relationship we tried to sustain.

Last year, I got into a mode. The mode consisted of waking up for school, going to school, falling asleep at school, going to tutor after school, falling asleep at tutoring, and coming back home. To sleep. I was irritable and miserable and indecisive and flakey. I fear I am repeating the past. So slap me if I start to drift off.

I had other things to write, but I'll save them for another day.

Arete is so beautiful. Seeing a picture of her makes me smile.

Here is something somewhat cheerful yet random to end this sorry excuse for an entry: When my sister and I were little, we had imaginary friends. Mine's name was Jack Hayes. Hers was Tim Lyle. They were superheroes. They were good-looking, successful, charming, and intelligent. We often took on the personas of these two characters and interacted with each other as if we were really them. We created and acted out entire movies we thought of ourselves. And occasionally, in a fit of boredom, we would record fake trailers on audio cassettes for upcoming films featuring our two heroes. We drew pictures of them and even wrote comic books about them. As a result, I have always considered myself two different people. I think that Jack Hayes will always be a facet of my personality I cannot ignore.

Tell me/show me something beautiful.