its too easy sometimes, sundays.

So I was thinking I dont know how to fucking get there. I dont know where I am half the time, as you tell me as frequently as I am called to give directions, which you call instructions. Those differences between us seem to widen with the times.

Last night the rain made it feel like a production, intense, loud music, subtext beneath the subtext. I hate the word epic, and every time you use it, it makes me think of failed bohemian revolutionaries, Barnes and Noble parking lots and the misnomer rebellion.

I suppose intense is the best word. There wasnt a time to express it last night, but I am constantly surprised by our interactions. I thought complicated was the best possible word, and I meant it with the best of intentions. Someone called me fascinating once, with the condition that they would stray away from the oft-mentioned "unique". They were right on with that one. They should have said, contrary, moody, above all RUDE. But these were better times and the memory is more forgiving than the characters we have killed off.

I had no idea I meant so much to you, or you feel that you can share so much of yourself. I feel like I hardly know you at all. And that dichotomy in a relationship seems so indicative of my future. I miss so much most of the time. I suppose it is all those walls I am constructing. You would think with all the time I spend inside myself I could make myself a better person. But now I think I am the best possible version of myself. Whatever that means, I will continue to be this person regardless of the changes I feel are necessary.