From the depths

I found a journal tonight. I read it. I recalled.
...

I feel as though I'm losing words because I have no use for them any longer. Who could expect a princess to understand the word "superfluous," let alone a simple server the word "crestfallen."

This time around I seek intellect and wit above physicality and affections. Anyone can provide anything physical that may be needed. But how many could really and truly stimulate intellectual thought? While actions may speak louder than words, the pen has always been mighter than the sword.

I'm still hoping that a casual coffee date will come my way sometime soon. I'm not looking for romance. I'm looking for change, for new, for some good conversation and a good cup of joe.

Brain wants to move forward.
...

Blindsided. Again and again and again.

Hopeless romantic? Or just hopeless?

So many wishes gone unrealized. How tragic. How storybook.
...

    "It's a game that you have two days left to play--what have you got to lose?"
    "I never play to lose."
    "Who ever does?"
...

I feel like I'm going to get myself into trouble again. I've been thinking about kisses. Soft, warm, kisses. Yum.
...

Each time I think of "forever," I hear her words in my head, telling me that I have to tell him. The risks are obvious.

My only honest out is to leave without explanation. How do you give a reason so old? It's deceitful.

Yet...the longer it goes, the deeper I get. Which is more dangerous? It's all grey to me.
...

I'd runaway, but not only would I have no where to go, but I wouldn't know what I was running from in the first place.
...

I wonder if he ever thinks about me?
...

I rarely feel sexier than when I'm in a pair of jeans and a tank top, jammin' alone in my room to the music on full blast.
...

How do you know if this is the way it's supposed to be? Reality tells us that it's not supposed to be magical and fairytale-like the whole way through, but then again, why can't it be? And even if not always, then why not at least consistently revisited? It sucks that it's not like math--there is no right or wrong answer, no matter how much logic you can try to impose on a relationship--on love--there is no simple solution. Hell, even math can have imaginary and irrational numbers, otherwise there's no way to figure some things out. As for myself, I don't need the equation, I just need the proof. The proof that what I'm doing makes sense.
...

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
    --"Goodbye My Lover" - James Blunt
...

    "Why not?"
    "No."
    "Oh come on. Don't be so adamant about the idea."
    "Okay, I'm not being adamant about the idea; I just don't want to think about it right now."
    "Alright, but don't close the option off entirely. You don't even have to think or do anything about it--it'll just happen one day by itself."
    "Can we please stop talking about this now?"
    "Why are you so against it?"
    "Why are you so for it?"
    "Really, I'm neither. If it happens, it happens; if it doesn't, it doesn't. Just that if it does happen, I think it would be good and we wouldn't worry."
    "Okay, for real: let's stop talking about it. Look, if it happens then I reserve you the right to come and tell me to my face: 'I told you so,' okay?"
    "Fine."

I've seriously heard too much about this recently. Regardless of my official position on the matter, I'd just rather keep from having seeds sown in my ever so fertile imagination.