The Broken Cookie.

A man once told me that he fell in love so many times in his life not because he loved women, but because he loved the anticipation of it all. His favorite part of the date was getting ready for it, and not the moment he sees her. His favorite part of a phone call would be hearing it ring. He said that nothing could have ever ruined that for him, unlike the rest of it all. Sometimes I'd make a play list, and put my favorite song last, so I'd have to wait for it. And then when it's finally played, most of the time I don't even concentrate as much as I did with the songs before it.

There's something unavoidable about reality that we tend to postpone whether we know we are or not. We wait for the introduction to reality and then when we get there, we hesitate and we shake. We fight for what we want and we're never sure if this is all we could be doing. We fight and we wait and we're okay with it because we hope that it will pay off.
I always did wonder, every time I watched a "Hell's Kitchen" Finale, how it felt to turn the door knob and find it locked. And how surprising it must feel to turn the knob and have the door open. And what was it like to not have to go through lists of all the positive things that will come out of not winning the million dollar restaurant of your dreams?

I'm okay with being the kind of person that comes to dead ends and turns around to take other roads. Longer Roads, with more people, and more time to think. But do I ever do anything else? Do I really need more thinking? I'm running out of things to think about, I'm running out of things to confuse myself about. I'm running out of tests for myself.

It's funny how one person's judgement could affect so many things at once. And it's funny how hard it is for me to accept how anything would affect me. I have never felt colder in my life. I have never felt more uninteresting in my life. I have no taste in music, any song is a good song. I have no taste in movies, any movie has something good about it. I have no interest in having opinions anymore because I have realised that all my opinions are too flexible for my own good. I feel like Ive officially bent until I broke.

Here I am again, feeling like the clingy younger friend that won't stop nagging her older friend about everything and anything. I laugh at everything, even the jokes I know aren't funny. I eat when I'm not hungry. I agree to things I don't want to agree to. I am trapped doing what's easy again. I might even be looking for approval again. I am here right now, writing this, to save myself. I am writing this now just to make it real. I need to see it to understand it. And I need to understand it to know what to do about it.

I miss talking.. I miss telling stories without giggling in the middle like an idiot because I'm afraid the person listening to it won't think it's interesting. I miss feeling like the biggest person I know. I miss feeling like I don't need anyone to make me feel whole. I miss it all. and here I am again, wanting to stop, afraid that I'm boring you with this. Who are you? You never did me any good any way. None of you ever will unless I'm willing to let myself be. Misery still is beautiful, and so is failure. But I don't think I recall seeing success, what if it's a different kind of beautiful? A kind I need to see. What if turning the door knob and winning the restaurant will bring you closer to your family and friends and you passon and everything you ever loved. What if thinking that the one who found the door locked will be the one who has the last laugh is just another comforting thought. What if I didn't exist? It wouldnt matter at this point. And I can't live like this. This is not who I am and this is not what I'll let myself be.

Will I laugh when I read this a year from now? What if I don't?