November 13, 2002

Life is real like that

He called wanting to know how my life has been. Said I�ve been distant lately. Distant. Was there ever a time, even in it�s slightest measure when things weren�t distant between us? Because I can�t think of a single moment when I thought what we had was anything but fleeting. It was fun, sweet, agreeable but never meaningful. Just a way to pass the time really.

And I sat there listening to his incoherent babble and wondered why we [everyone, not just him and I] even bother. Why we, as a species feel companionship is so essential. It has to be more than the animalistic urge to procreate in order to keep our genes around, the species alive. Maybe I�m idealizing it. Maybe it isn�t anything more than that.

Maybe I�m just cold hearted.

I told him we could get together for a cup of coffee sometime, though I doubt it will ever happen. How can people be so na�ve? Why do they fool themselves into seeing something that�s not there? I�m sick of boys who claim to be close to me, think they mean something to me when they don�t. I�m sick of the, �I will prosper where others have failed.� mentality. I wish someone would, just once, believe me when I tell them I don�t keep people around for very long. Just once, not get all sappy.

I know it will happen someday. I�ll meet someone and things will be wonderful. Then he�ll walk away without a second thought. And I�ll be crushed, broken into a thousand tiny pieces because he�ll have been the one person who broke through my walls and touched my heart of hearts. Life is ironic like that.

9:20 a.m.

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