Is there ever the possibility to have a love as pure, strong, comforting, sweet, and enchanting as that first love?
Does each love thereafter fail because of being held up to impossibly high standards created in the past? (\”No one can live up to your standards — people like that don\’t exist.\” \”Yes they do; I dated him.\” \”Then why are you with me, wanting me to be like him?\”)
How common is it to find another person who understands how to fucking shut up and listen when the music is on, instead of trying to talk? (\”The silence makes me uncomfortable. You\’re shutting me out.\” \”I\’m enjoying the music!\” \”It\’s making me uncomfortable.\”)
I know you know what I\’m on about.
Caesar is right, in that there\’s no point in compromising oneself with distractions. But I\’ll admit that I\’m lonely out here, doing the right thing, not being a fuck-up, going to school, being in rehab, and rarely seeing my friends. So I\’m weak, and I compromise. But it\’s funny… I feel better when I don\’t. Compromising is an instant fix that seems good at the time, and just doesn\’t last.
Where am I going to be in another two years? I have to set up an Individual Plan for rehab, mapping out my goals for now to get me to the future, and I just don\’t know. Which is why I\’m going back into counseling. I need help getting my shit sorted. I\’m worn to the core of being the only person in my corner with the understanding and capacity to figure this all out. I need extra input. I\’m tired of feeling like my life is eating me away at the corners when I\’m asleep.
