on the morning after

If I'm gonna lose you.. I'm gonna lose you now for good.- Pete Yorn (Lose You, Music for the Morning After)
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Somehow what seemed logical at odd hours of the night, is not as logical anymore.

The anger drains with the darkness, and all I'm left with is bad morning hair, circles under my eyes, and dreary weather to perpetuate my incomparable mood.

I write the things I think, and people are afraid to say. That's what Tom told me once. He said that my writing allows people to see the way in which I view things, the thought process that goes into my actions. The insecurities. The happiness- the moments that mean nothing to anyone else, but something to me.

I'm tired of feeling so... out of it. I never deal with anything. I always try to be the bigger person. Or like to think that's what i'm trying to do. One month, and you'd think I'd be doing better, one month, and I know no one expects me to really be better yet. I thought I was. I joked to Swils-

I mean, he never even liked Wilco.

And that's when I finally get it: I can't move on, on my own. I can't do this alone- I can't be by myself. Does this make me a bad person? Does this make me less of an individual? Maybe. But by who's standard?

In the harsh light of day the morning after, I know what I always knew- and I think I'll keep that to myself.

Some thoughts, are better left unsaid.