Damn it, I always end up back here.

You know, I have found my “time of day”. Strange actually. It’s from like about 8 till about 12, if I can make it till 12.
It’s strange though, because I have so much energy then, but I have to use it or I’ll end up asleep faster than you can spell antidisestablishmentarianism.

Yes, I spelled that right.
And you thought I didn’t…

Have you ever wondered why people do the things they do…..Like, why the hell did they do that? Why did they say that? Where’d that come from?
I do that all the time.
I never get answers though.
Like, I’d like to know why this one person says what they do – not saying who, for fear that they will hate me. I mean, it’s like wow. I know that most people like that sort of stuff, but I don’t. It doesn’t work for me. I can’t take it much. Like, it’s like I’m supposed to do that, when someone else does, it makes me take on the other role….Soon they’ll be asking what’s wrong and shit.
Just like someone else I know who was like that (Sean, for those you can’t catch on well).
And then, like, this other person, why do they seem to not like the smiley? Are they scared? Do they just not like it? I don’t know…I’d like to know what it means when a >:D< is always getting a “lol”. Because I’ve never known one to get a “lol”.

I don’t really have anything to share yet.
Yet. That’s the operative word here.
Most likely, I’ll have LOADS to tell you later today.
Which I will do, because I just LOVE sharing almost every aspect of my life with other people.
I mean really.

Okay, I’m sorta off-kilter this morning, can’t you tell?
Wanna know why?
I shall share.
I’m not the girly-girl type. I don’t like that stuff all the time. In short doses, sure. But, any longer than that, is like, damn, I’m not that kind of person.
Wanna know why I’m not that kind of person? Because, I’m the type that gives it. I can’t take it the same way. It just doesn’t work.
I was with one of the kind that is silent in their affections. Sure he opened up and said nice things and was all lovey-dovey every once in a while. But it wasn’t all the time. I liked that. The silence between us, just being there. I liked how that was. The man is supposed to be manly, and have lapses occasionally, does something sweet when it’s called for. Not all the time.
That doesn’t work for me. Because I can’t be like that all the time. It doesn’t work.
I’ll end up being like ya this is good one moment and the next it’s like dude, no, stop, you’re annoying the fuck out of me. Stop!
I don’t know.
I guess, just, like, the man is supposed to be all masculine and shit, while the girl is supposed to be feminine. For me, that’s how it works. Other than I’m not feminine. Other than the part about how I do take on the woman’s role of the care-giver…..I’ll do that all damn day, if I love ya. But, come one, the guy isn’t supposed to do that!
This certain person that I was with that I’d rather not name because I will go off into memories about (even though I’m already there, I don’t want it to get worse) never would admit being the boss. He said that I was. I said that he was. We went back and forth one time on the phone about that. Then one time he’s like fine, you’re fired. I was like what???? And he’s like you’re fired. And so we went back and forth about that too. It ended with neither of us the boss. Secretly, though, I dubbed the boss to be him. Since he was. He was the one with all the power, wasn’t he? He was the one who would leave and go wherever it was that he went, only to return when he chose. He was the one who had the power to end things, because I never once did, only he did. He had the power to make it work or to make it fail.
We all know what happened.
Well, to an extent, you all know what happened.

Last night, I was listening to the song “whiskey lullaby” by Brad Paisley and Allison Kraus. However you spell their names.
Anyway. That will be my song, for the rest of forever.
Because it’s about how their thing failed, they screwed up (well, she did, but in my scenario, he did). Anyway, they ended up not-together. They lived the rest of their lives missing the other. I will end up spending the rest of my life missing him. Sick, right?
I don’t know.
Just like, there’s this weird feeling about it. Probably because things between us never actually ended. There was the “no more talking to him on the phone” from my mamma. And then the call in November, even though he wasn’t supposed to. Then he was supposed to come the next day of school to the bus-stop and shit.
Never happened. Haven’t heard from him since.
So there is/was no END.
I haven’t gotten to use the “The End. And No Not the Beatles’ Song” title with him. I’ve gotten to do it to the others, but not him.
So, I don’t know, that’s part of the problem.

You are probably wondering why I keep on the topic of Falcon. Damnit, I said it. Oh well. Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I keep coming back here.
I don’t really know why I’m here again and again.
I just do.
I wish I knew why. I think I miss him just a little too much. But there’s nothing I can do about it, right?

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