thoughts on first love and such...
June 18, 2002 at 9:46 p.m.
I found an old love letter today.
I screamed at it when I realized what it was, but I never opened it.
I didn't need to. I already knew what it said.
He was a bad person - even in that first letter he wrote to me, there was the manipulation. The "I know I'm not worthy to be with you - but I can't stop myself. I will have you." It's not the first time, and it wasn't the last. I hear that a lot, actually.
Why do they always come to me, huh?
It got me thinking. Not in the good way.
There's a box buried in my side yard underneath a small statue of Buddah. Somewhere behind the bushes. In that box are letters and dreams I shared with my first love. Letters for our future selves to readd. We foolishly buried it 4 years ago, planning to come and laugh at it 2 years later.
4 years later I'm graduated from college and moving on to a fabulous masters degree. Excited, but alone again (by choice). He now lives somewhere around here with his wife and child. He never went to college, failed at a mission and is trying to sell real estate.
I don't have any regretson that decision, believe you me.
But everytime I come back here, I think about him. I can't help it. Someday when I'm strong enough - curious enough, I'll dig up that box and find out what he wrote to me.
But not yet. 4 years just doesn't seem to be long enough.
And today, I chatted on the phone with my old best friend from high school. She's expecting her third child.
She got married at 18, first year out at BYU. Never finished.
I'm not jealous - she's always been a less complicated person, and that lifestyle fits her well.
But what does hurt a little is that... she's never had her heart broken. She dated one boy seriously, and few months later, he became her husband.
Sometimes I wonder why I have to go through all this heartbreak and she didn't. I don't want to be married yet, and I'm tired of this circle.
The jerk that wrote me that love letter is married too. She doesn't have any of those guys in her past. Why do I have a nice long list? Did I do something horribly wrong? Am I supposed to learn from all this pain? The joy is never equal to that.
I hate love letters. The lady who started the Hayman fire (I am not condoning her actions!!!) was tired of them too, I'm sure.
ooooooo, speaking of the fire, I met my good friend Andy in Denver to play some frisbee today. He's a violinist from UNT but his summer job is down by Pike's Peak. And he was evacuated today... I think he's going to lose his job because his apartment and the place he works is being burned right now.
Golly!!!!! He can come live with me.
not that anyone would want to stay her right now... we just tore up the floor, took out all the cabinents and are ripping the wallpaper off.
Remodeling, here we go!
Oh, and I think the hot tub has algae.
You know, it didn't feel weird to have Andy here. It never feels weird when my good friends come. Like I was thinking today, about how Urmi came and stayed New Years Day with my fam this year.
Not only my fam, my AUNT. Any friend that can brave her dry humour is a friend indeed. And Urmi just sank into the couch cushions like one of the family.
That's the first time... felt o so good.
I miss my friends. I wish I could find a job. No one wants me to do a job and have classes in the morning. *sob* I need something else to validate me, dagnabit.
SUPERCRACK is hitting the hay....