I wonder how long I'll be a broken girl? Is there some sort of estimation someone can offer me? Will the mistakes I've made continue to repeat? I know they are mistakes; why the fuck do I continue to make them? I like to try and understand my behavior. Some of it, though, boggles the crap out of me.

I have too many questions. Too many of them are unanswerable. Stupid. I've felt very alone, and lost. I'm still freaking lost and who knows when I'll find myself, but I'm not alone. They are at least two people who know me... and they don't mind all my faults. They love me anyway, and in life, that's all that anyone can ask for, and it happens to be absolutely necessary. So simple, but damn near impossible to locate amongst all the lies and treachery in which this world drowns. So, maybe, just maybe, I'll find my way some day.

The Wind is pissed today. It's finished Fall's job, and is carrying our left over summer off for company. Can't say I blame it for wanting them to join its journey. However, I'm not interested in being said company. It's howling so hard, I'm nearly blown away. It's rather annoying for it to be billowing such these three days. Three days when I have to be outside, and move furniture. It's frustrating to barely be able to get in and out of the car without being swept away, literally.

FACK. I think I'm sick of Fall already.

I don't think I've ever had this much trouble finishing a piece of writing. The post below is just so damn sullen. I guess that is its intent. It's not like the past month has been perfect. And, it's a reflection of all the high hopes I had for my life in this place, and the sorrow I feel for failing.

I don't think I've ever written anything that lacked emotion such as life.

I don't know if I'll finish.

I wish I weren’t vain.

I’m feeling particularly pitiful this evening.  I’ve gone out of my way… not figuratively.  It’s been decided that I cannot do it much longer, although it’s still being asked of me.

An aching sadness is consuming the air surrounding me.  I do know that I want a partner for life… at some point.  I do not want marriage or children.  I just want to share this fucked up life with someone.  And, the most I’ll ever ask is the same effort be given that I put forth.

That doesn’t seem like too much to ask, but I’ve failed again in spotting it.   Correction… I’m failing.  I’m failing slowly.  It’s like turning on the shower too hot, and not having the means to move from it’s burning spray. 

I’m just standing here in hot fucking water, and I am melting.

unchangeable against my will

I'm am forever burdened by my romantic notions.  They haunt me.   I dream of pulsating lips parted by oxygen that never find their meeting.   I wake to wind howling ambitions never lived. Couples embrace on the street while their ghosts hold their eyes open at me.

Lessons learned?  I do not know what lessons I have learned.  I am unchangeable.  Even when I want to be, I cannot be moved.  I sway briefly to the sound of fantasy, but I always return to reality.  Why do I continue to want that which lies outside my own garden?

I cannot take my eyes off of the girl I’ve seen in my future.  I’m doomed to never met her.  I stretch my height while staring at the horizon;  I’m so certain she’s there.  If only my sight could reach just a bit farther.  If only someone could help me find her.

Even when I need to be, I cannot be moved.

“If I never met you, I wouldn’t like you.  If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t love you.  If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t miss you.  But I did, I do, and I will.”

Some hate to run. The Road and I have a special connection. For a few years in my 20s, running was all I had. It was just me and the four mile stretch of asphalt near my home. I loved that path. I miss that path, but not the life in which it was held. There was no judgement on that road. Just me and my shoes, and some tunes. It was solace. I'd like to make it such again.

My body hates it right now. I am not in the best running shape, but I'm getting back there. I'm 30... man, that is hard to write down and I think I'll frown when I say it out loud until I'm 31. I'll probably have a different sort of frown at my age then. I need to lose about ten pounds to be more effective, but, I'm going to get my body back into running shape so I can share it with the Road. I don't need to run marathons, but I need that relationship back. It was the best relationship I've ever had. The Road isn't mad at me if I'm in a bad mood and don't want to talk, if I don't have any make-up on, or if I didn't do my hair. It doesn't even care if I stink. I can dress as uncoordinated as I like, and the Road is still happy to see me. It is a bit harder on me if I don't show up for a few days, but soon forgives. I need this relationship back. I'm pretty sure it's the only one I can't completely destroy. I can mistreat it, but it always takes me back. It's time I were better to the Road.

I keep dropping my heart on the floor. I am responsible for its damage. I can't blame anyone else.