Inside out, upside-down twisting beside myself.
I have plenty going on. Full load of classes plus research and TAing. I'm keeping myself busy in the hopes that I won't have time for heavy thoughts. Obviously that hasn't worked; otherwise, I wouldn't be writing this.
I knew that I'd get like this again.
I've told myself everything was all hunky-dory from day one. I even convinced myself of it for about a month. That's changed, a fact which I knew deep down was inevitable. At least no one else has noticed.
You said yourself this wasn't easy.
I did know this would be difficult going in, didn't I? Then why am I surprised now?
My self-worth measured in text-back tempo, it's been two days and eight minutes too slow.
Except that's not true. There's plenty of back and forth. I just feel guilty every time I start a conversation and have nothing to say. The truth is that I just want to be talking.
I'm dying to know what's in your head.
I don't, though. Because I know I'll be setting myself up for disappointment.
The stickler is you've played not one beat wrong, never promised me anything. Even sat me down, warned me just how they fall - I knew the odds were I'd never win.
Maybe that's why I'm feeling this way. It was better while we were having the conversation. But we don't talk about that anymore.
What of the wretched hollow, the endless in between? Are we just going to wait it out?
Two months isn't a very long time, and it hasn't even been that. What the hell is wrong with me? I know that whatever is meant to happen will happen at the end of this all. But this intermediate limbo is so hard.
Things are not always how they seem. They don't turn out always, don't quite turn out always how we think. Will we be ready?
That's what I'm scared of though. It was so easy to speak optimistically at the beginning about the unknowns to come. Stepping slowly towards that future, uncertainty settles in for real, and I realize I wasn't ready to bear that weight. I don't know how things are going to turn out, and I don't know how I'm going to feel at the end. Is it the same for you?
No I just can't sit still. Are we there yet?
We are, in fact, not there yet. So I should really just get over that fact and continue on with my daily life.
I'm dying to know, to help make some sense of it all.
I just want to talk, but I'm afraid to bring it up.
The more you look, the less you see. So close your eyes and start to breathe. Oh, you said yourself this wasn't easy.
I should focus. I shouldn't be putting this pressure on either of us. Again, why am I surprised at myself?
I feel a weakness coming on.
I feel alone, and I need you to confirm to me that I am not.
Tell me, is it my fault?
Am I pushing you away? This is your adventure, not mine. I have been so selfish. I'm sorry.
I have plenty going on. Full load of classes plus research and TAing. I'm keeping myself busy in the hopes that I won't have time for heavy thoughts. Obviously that hasn't worked; otherwise, I wouldn't be writing this.
I knew that I'd get like this again.
I've told myself everything was all hunky-dory from day one. I even convinced myself of it for about a month. That's changed, a fact which I knew deep down was inevitable. At least no one else has noticed.
You said yourself this wasn't easy.
I did know this would be difficult going in, didn't I? Then why am I surprised now?
My self-worth measured in text-back tempo, it's been two days and eight minutes too slow.
Except that's not true. There's plenty of back and forth. I just feel guilty every time I start a conversation and have nothing to say. The truth is that I just want to be talking.
I'm dying to know what's in your head.
I don't, though. Because I know I'll be setting myself up for disappointment.
The stickler is you've played not one beat wrong, never promised me anything. Even sat me down, warned me just how they fall - I knew the odds were I'd never win.
Maybe that's why I'm feeling this way. It was better while we were having the conversation. But we don't talk about that anymore.
What of the wretched hollow, the endless in between? Are we just going to wait it out?
Two months isn't a very long time, and it hasn't even been that. What the hell is wrong with me? I know that whatever is meant to happen will happen at the end of this all. But this intermediate limbo is so hard.
Things are not always how they seem. They don't turn out always, don't quite turn out always how we think. Will we be ready?
That's what I'm scared of though. It was so easy to speak optimistically at the beginning about the unknowns to come. Stepping slowly towards that future, uncertainty settles in for real, and I realize I wasn't ready to bear that weight. I don't know how things are going to turn out, and I don't know how I'm going to feel at the end. Is it the same for you?
No I just can't sit still. Are we there yet?
We are, in fact, not there yet. So I should really just get over that fact and continue on with my daily life.
I'm dying to know, to help make some sense of it all.
I just want to talk, but I'm afraid to bring it up.
The more you look, the less you see. So close your eyes and start to breathe. Oh, you said yourself this wasn't easy.
I should focus. I shouldn't be putting this pressure on either of us. Again, why am I surprised at myself?
I feel a weakness coming on.
I feel alone, and I need you to confirm to me that I am not.
Tell me, is it my fault?
Am I pushing you away? This is your adventure, not mine. I have been so selfish. I'm sorry.
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