I don’t want commitment, but I want something real.
I don’t want the pressure to have a future when those are so unpredictable right now, at this point in life when everything and everyone changes this quickly. but I do want to know it’s real. it’s not something I made up in my head. I don’t want to be questioning myself if I’m really seeing it clearly or not. I don’t want to feel happy and then have to ask myself, but am I really? or am I imagining it?
I want to think, yeah, this is temporary. but as of right now, this is real.
so I have a diary kinda thing that I don’t really write in that often. I only jot down notes about really happy things when they happen once in a while, to look back on. I don’t write down the things that make me unhappy; I probably won’t want to be reminded of them. (although this probably contributes to my habit of remembering things as better than they really were.)
after all this time, I haven’t written that much about you. not because you never made me happy. just because I could never tell if you were a good or bad thing. I could never tell how I’d want to look back on you. I’d keep thinking, “will I want to remember this?”
maybe if I never write down proof, I can say it was all in my head.
“you’re too young to give up; dreams should be immense!
but don’t be naive, you’re too old, have some sense.
running out of time – no, you’ve got your whole life.”
wisdom and youth, my internal strife.