You know, I hate coming on here. I avoid it as much as possible, and this is the first time I've even looked at this place since the summer. It feels....haunted. Instead of a place where I could freely let my mind and fingertips roam free, it's become a graveyard. A cold, chilling dwelling of our ghosts, all the skeletons in our closet. My stomach physically lurches when I even catch a glimpse of those old posts. And the lurching continues outside of this web site. Sometimes daily, sometimes weekly, but it's still there. The physical flips, knots, twists that I can feel when my mind strays down a familiar dismal path. And I can't help it. Sometimes, many times, I could be held guilty for letting my mind run wild. But more often than not, it's almost a knee-jerk reaction. I've built up a wall. As much as I wish it weren't true, I now have armor around me. And slowly I'm peeling it off, but it's never too far away that I couldn't toss it back on in an instant's notice. I ask for nothing but your time and patience, but I realize that may be too much to ask. I try to keep it in check. But trust is a fragile thing. And I would love to say that I trust you with all of my heart. But I don't think I could say that with a clean conscience. And until the day I can look you in the eyes and only think of good, only looking forward, turning a blind eye to my rear-view mirrors, I ask for your strength and faith.

⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

⁸ Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

Together, we're dangerous. I hope you've realized that by now. You make me think about things an 18-year-old shouldn't think about. You make me question things I've never thought twice about before. It's ridiculous. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if we met a little further down the road. Because if we met in our early/mid twenties, fresh out of college and starting the work force, there's no doubt in my mind that we'd probably be married by now, or at least planning on it. Yeah, I'll say it. Why hide it? We're damn near perfect for each other. Don't bullshit me. I know you feel this. "The chemistry between us could destroy this place." It's true. But we met young. Too young. This is truly an example of being in the right place at the wrong time. That's all it is. The wrong time. I think this is a test, to be perfectly honest. Whatever God is up there has handed us something so many people look for, and is curious to see if our young minds can comprehend such a blessing and see it for what it truly is. But it's a blessing and a curse, being so torn between youth's natural whimsical curiosities and the ancient gut feeling of fate and instinct. My mind is telling me to run away, explore the world, feel my options, push my limits, be carefree, make mistakes, be young. But my heart had made its mind up long ago. I hate it and love it at the same time. Like this entire situation. Such mixed feelings, so bipolar, so many rollercoasters and twists. But honestly, at the end of the day, sometimes I just want to run away to Vegas with you. I feel like we could do it. I feel like if we stopped over-thinking, over-analyzing, wondering if it's right or if it's "meant to be", or what "it" is at all, and we just did it...everything would be okay. But that's just me.

Every roommate kept awake
By every sigh and scream we make
All the feelings that I get...
But I still don't miss you yet

Only when I stop to think about it...

I hate everything about you.
Why do I love you?
I hate everything about you.
Why do I love you?

I can't write about it. Because writing about it somehow makes it the truth. Makes it more real. And I'm not ready for that yet.

It's funny how one second I feel invincible, and then something minuscule happens that completely snaps me back to reality. Who am I kidding? I haven't changed. I still feel everything. I'm a mess on the outside, but at the end of the day, I come home to bed feeling alone as ever. I hate knowing that I'm about to ruin everything. But this time, it might be for the better. I'm afraid. I'm afraid to let it go. Because it's kept me alive these past couple weeks, and I don't want to go back to being an inhuman, cold monster again. But this time I know I won't. I'm going to get hurt. It's going to hurt like hell. But I don't have a choice. I've never had a choice. None of this was ever my choice.

I love and hate the person I've become. I'm aware of my own downward spiral. This isn't happening out of my control. I know exactly what I'm doing, exactly where I'm heading, and I'm not going to change that any time soon. It's complicated to know you're creating your own recipe for disaster willingly. And to accept it. I can't help but have a sadistic smile on my face with every step I take. Will it bite me in the ass? Yes. Will I regret it? Yes. Will I pay for this with something I'm not willing to compromise in the future? Yes. But that doesn't affect any of this. I'm slowly but surely becoming completely numb. A ticking time bomb. I look for trouble and I purposely fuck things up for other people. It's entertaining to me. I'm fucking heartless. You may think I'm just naive and I don't know when to say enough's enough. But that's not the case. At all. I'm cold, calculating, and fully indulgent in all of this. I'll be the first to admit that it will ruin me. But right now, I'm a danger zone. To everyone around me. As far as I'm concerned, they're the ones that need to watch out. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Right now, I'm everyone's enemy voluntarily.

I'm fucking bulletproof.

It's 1:30 am on a Sunday night, and there are birds chirping outside. I can hear their high pitched twitters echoing into the forest. And I still feel it. From when I first felt it years ago, I still feel that calling. I have that almost-but-not-quite-there-yet feeling of curious misplacement. Like I've lost something, or maybe just haven't found something yet. Something tells me that there's more for me out there. That I haven't yet reached my intended path, but when I do I'll know it, and I'll feel it, and it will feel like nothing I've ever felt before. An acceptance and contentedness I can only now dream of.