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I'm glad I'm not afraid of the world. I'm glad it hasn't scared me out of living. I was talking to a friend a couple of days ago about travel and adventure and spontaneity, and she told me that she was afraid of living, that she was in constant fear of something going wrong. I told her that I didn't understand, and I'm so glad that I don't.
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Sometimes, on nights like tonight, when the sky is clear and the air is cool, I just want to escape. Escape school and work and all of the responsibilities that threaten to swallow me whole. I stare at the sky that's sometimes dotted with stars and breathe in that fresh late-winter air and feel my troubles being lifted one at a time. That test tomorrow? Those things I regret? They disappear somewhere in the sky just as I dream to.
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He was the kind of trouble I had been looking for. The taste of smoke on his breath was comforting somehow, but also a startling reminder of the kind of person he is, the kind of person I was willing to become to be with him. His hand on my cheek was soft and gentle, mirroring the qualities in him that I was so desperate for everyone else to see. His tall build made me feel safe and secure while every other part of him threatened to tear me apart. It’s funny how someone can have that kind of power over you.
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I feel like sometimes people excuse our faults because they say that it's just who we are. And they say that if that's the way we are, then we shouldn't have to change it. But just because that's who we are now doesn't mean that's who we always have to be.
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Bits and pieces of unfinished thoughts, mostly things I try to make sense of but never get very far.
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