not the first, and not the worst

i could stay here, but i need a place to think. i need to get away, to be alone. i hate letting the people i know the best see me at my worst sometimes. maybe because i feel like it's getting old. and if you dont know me, you'll just assume i'm having a bad day. you won't know that this is a common thing.

and i hope you know it's not you, it's me.

but just my luck downtown is dead tonight. not near enough distractions. i swear there's a couples-only party by the river tonight or someone finding humor in jabbing fingers into my wounds. they seem so content like they've found everything they've been looking for. part of me feels sorry that they don't realize how fragile their situation is, yet i envy their blissful unawareness with every bone in my body.

you'd think by now i wouldn't be so easily swept up.
but when i'm happy im, oh so, happy.


i keep trying to focus on the bright side, at least someone new managed to bring my guard down; to let myself be so vulnerable. and experience tells me one day i won't even remember how this felt; what it was like to know you that way.


and i'm burning the only bridges left standing tonight;
desperate and wreckless.

tonight i'm wrapped up in the arms of a distraction, but all it's doing is reminding me that i'd much rather be some place else.

it's not you. it really has nothing to do with you. i'm just entirely disfunctional. but, again, somehow every hurt seems more painfull than the last and, honestly, i'm just tired. it feels like i'm running in circles; i'm sick of ending up here and , yes, maybe it's normal, but maybe i'm not cut out for it.


i feel as if i may never get this right.

"i wish i had said more."