I want to start out by saying that I admire you, I admire you for loving me when majority of the time I can not love myself. You are the best best friend I could have ever asked for. It must be hard to always listen to my crying about relationships, whining about work projects, and stressing about school work. You do it though, and you do it with beautiful grace. How is it that you can make me laugh when I do not even want to smile. I have always thought that the word soul mates was cliche. Until I met you. You are the better half of me, my person, my guilty thoughts. I can not even imagine where I would be in this world without your witty comments, and beautiful smile. If I am wrong, you do not sugar coat it, and I need that. You are strong for me, when I can no longer be strong for myself. I can only hope that you feel the same way about me as well. You see, I did not know how much you were going to mean to me, the day you popped your short haired head over my fence. I did not expect late night talks on top of your roof, watching the fireworks from the sidewalks in front of our house. I would have never guessed that I would have been there for your first kiss, or you for mine. I am so happy that you were there to hold me, for my first time. I could not imagine anyone else being by my side, senior prom. All the late night drunk conversations we had, and no longer remember. When the bathtub was the safest place to go, when either one of use was upset. You could read me like an open book, with a swift gaze of your eyes, you knew what I was thinking. You are everything to me, and I miss you more than 400 words could ever sum up.
Long lost best friend.
It didn’t start out bad honestly. He was the sweetest, cutest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. This isn’t going to be some sob story about how he’s still a good person , or that he doesn’t mean to do any harm because he isn’t not a good person anymore. He is no where near who he used to be. He steals from stores, strangers, my family and even me. He lies to everyone, I’m not sure why when we all know the truth. The whole city knows the truth and it’s sad. Not sad for him, but the him he who use to be. He knows what he is doing and risking each time he uses, and each time he brings needles and baggies of dope into our house. He doesn’t mean to get caught, but he knows what he is doing. Each and every time he breaks my heart, he may care, and he may think he loves me but this is not love. I need to realize that and actually do something about it or else he’s going to continue thinking that treating me like this is alright. It’s not. I deserve better, and he deserves better as well. He deserves someone that can handles the swings and the ups and downs of addiction. Someone who can motivate him every single day and be positive with him when he isn’t strong enough. The point is, it isn’t all bad loving an addict but it isn’t him being the great person that is so love able. There is no one directions, sympathy or hate. This is the hardest love. Loving an addict.
I think a lot of people who are fresh out of high school, or about to be, worrying about planning ahead. I know I have. Now that I am in my second year of college, I still worry about it. I am not sure how there are some people who have everything planned out. I have always been the type of person who just went with the flow, but it get kind of worrisome when your whole future is unsure of. I know that I will get a job in law enforcement, but where. Why job do I want to do, who are the type of people that I want to help. Planning ahead can not be that hard, I can plan for one day, and I feel like if I can do that then I can plan for a month from now, maybe even a year. Look, here I am worrying again.
I’ve always heard the saying “working is like banging your head against the wall. It will only feel good once you stop”. I left class early today because I haven’t showered in a while, my house is a mess and I have to work. Some classes I can skip and it will be okay. My grades are decent, some very good. Today I started to freak out because I didn’t think I’d have enough time to do some things that I needed to get done since I have to work right after class. I just feel like I have to many things on my plate all at once, all the time. I do horrible with these things because I get lazy and I just don’t do it. Which I do not want to be like this, and I’m not really sure why I am anymore. I use to never be like this. I wish I could stop worrying.