I am a sinking ship on the best of days. My life is a twisted mess of insecure metaphors. I keep things complicated for myself, I think.
I haven't really seen my family in months. We're strangers that share genetics and history, but very little of the heart.
I work in a bar because the music stays between me and everyone else. It keeps me tired, exhausted, and quiet. It keeps me from trying for something better.
I don't try very hard in school. I withdraw from classes, or work 3 jobs at once so I have an excuse to fail. A reason to stay behind. A reason to keep some distance between the future and I.
C. asked me the other night, "if I lit my hand on fire... would you break up with me?" And I replied that I'd fix it for him. But I keep thinking of this. I would. And I don't know if I'm happy with that. I don't know if expending that energy on him is reciprocated.
I don't know if I can ever be with anyone if I keep dreaming of up and leaving one day. I don't know if I can ever be with anyone if I keep falling in love with everyone.
I don't know where I am today.