062301
It’s 11:33 PM. I never got to go on my walk, because by the time the missionary chicks had left, the storm had already blown in, and it never left. The thunder and lightning have stopped now, and there is a gorgeous, cool breeze blowing outside, which feels great in the heat. I’m sitting here in a t-shirt and underwear, sipping ice water and enjoying the breeze blowing through my window. Since my windows are on the north and west sides of my room, if I open them both, I get a really nice current flowing through. The night is so gorgeous out there now, cool but still. I wish I had someone to go walking with in it. The puffy clouds are still out, and they make the dark sky look a lot brighter, so it would be easy to walk without a flashlight up the mountain.
Jen got home a while ago but hasn’t said much. I don’t think she’s very happy about something. Usually when she comes home from Marc’s house, she is full of stories and all excited. Who knows.
I haven’t talked to Matt since Wednesday. I don’t know what’s up with that either. I think I pissed him off. I think I say that a lot lately... I think it’s like my goal in life to fuck up every cool friendship I have by doing nothing that I’m conscious of, because it seems to happen a lot. Unless I just subconsciously pick people who are going to desert me or fuck me over. I rarely see Matt online anymore, and when I do, he seems to be angry at me. If I ever ask what’s wrong, it’s always “Nothing”, and if I show that I care, I get an angry reaction. I think it would be easier if I just stopped caring about people altogether. Because the only people I truly care about don’t really seem to give a shit about me. It’s nice to be able to say stupid shit like, “Well, I was always there for YOU!”, but in the end, it’s all just fucking talk and it doesn’t make the situation any better, or make me feel any better. I used to do the whole warning people when I first met them thing so that they couldn’t say I didn’t warn them when they got too close and got hurt, because I felt justified in my actions, and like I had nothing to be sorry for because I had warned them and they had walked into it knowingly, but the same outcome there, too: I felt bad anyway and it never solved anything.
So many times I have wanted to sit down and write Matt and tell him what I was feeling and try to explain to him that I don’t want anything but his friendship, and try to make myself somehow seem “safe” so that he felt more comfortable around me, so that he would come around more often, because I miss him, but I know from experience that it doesn’t matter. Nothing I write makes a damn bit of difference, no matter how heartfelt it is, or how poetic it is, or how much time and effort I put into it. Words on a paper are just words on a paper. They don’t mean shit. People can say that it touches them, but rarely does the written word make a difference. It’s something you can just skim over and not get what I was feeling or trying to convey, or you can throw away if you don’t feel like reading it, or a million other possibilities. In the end though, it doesn’t matter. Especially not to Matt. Because he is him, and he refuses to change for anyone. He won’t allow himself to have friendships that benefit him, or people in his life who care about him. And if that’s what I represent, then my words would be wasted on deaf ears. I don’t want to waste my time trying to get through to someone who simply wishes I would disappear out of his life and leave him alone. It is a waste of my energy to try to regain his friendship when he would love nothing more than for me to walk out on him and tell him I hate him. I guess it doesn’t really matter if I write him or not, because I still write about it in here constantly, and he reads the page... It’s frustrating. I’m not supposed to say anything about how it bothers me or how I miss him, so I write it in here, and he reads it anyway. I guess he’ll just have to deal with it then, because I’m going to write about it until I no longer think about it, and at this point, I think about him every day. I miss my friends, and he’s just one more to hit the door running...
Anyway, it’s 11:53. I’m going to start babbling soon. I have Fuel’s “Bad Day” stuck in my head. That guy is magically delicious.
If you have found this page printed out, you can find the original at http://www.oocities.org/SoHo/Lofts/8330