May 27, 2009

It's been a while since i remembered what boredom felt like, but I'm back in Charleston and I can't get a decent job, have hardly any friends and absolutely no love interest, and nothing new seems to be on the horizon. On the up side, I've been seized with a fierce desire to paint. I'm not sure of what or on what this painting will become, but its nagging there, an undercurrent. I wish I could go and explore more freely but only traveling with your feet or a borrowed car doesn't afford much in the way of flexibility.

I feel like there's a bit of a void in me recently and I'm not completely happy. I'm just not exactly sure why. What is it that alludes me, I'm mystified! Maybe part of it is you, maybe I'm just romanticizing everything... A literary heroine, torn in two because she hasn't yet met the man devised by the author to complete her? I used to think I was stronger than that, now I'm not so sure. I don't like feeling unsure of myself. I'm almost at page 100... after that only 43 to go. So I've got a good 2-3 years left if I keep up the same pace that I have in the past. It's still hard to believe that I've written to you for seven years now. Seven years and three days. It's funny how I used to be so sure about this, about you, and somewhere down the line everything seemed to get all muddled and a little blurry. In that respect, growing up is sort of sad. I'm sure that when I'm 40, I'll look back on this and think the same thing, oh now sweet and naive... God, I hope not.

Goodnight, I'll save page 100 for something slightly more special, darling. I love you.


Post a Comment


Blog Template by YummyLolly.com - Header Frame by Pixels and Ice Cream
Sponsored by Free Web Space