I'm glad I don't ever delete any notes on here. Sometimes I like to be able to go back and completely relive a moment.

What I don't get is why now. Why does life have that perfect timing. It is sort of like how once you learn a new word you suddenly hear it being used. It is just like that, but bigger, and kind of painful

the would is all open and sore again. It hurts like fuck. Then now . . . It is just so appropriate. What am I supposed to think of you? I miss you. I do. But I'm not sure I know how to coexist with you.

It isn't at all that I wasn't really over it. I wrote a goddamm play for class and I knew it would reopen old wounds and I tried my best to make it good . . . and I had to reopen old wounds to do it. I had to suddenly realize how little I actually knew about you and what you felt and why you.

I beleive what I said today. Most of this pain we do to ourselves.