Left it all behind, and never said goodbye

I should know by now that not all growing pains are physical.

On the way home I thought about how many times I had seen them live. How many times, over nine years I saw them play alone. Not including the times we saw them outside of that scene, just as people. A vacant couch, a roof for the evening, the good times we had. and really, we spent the last two years waiting for this to be over officially. Two years untill we could look this in the face and accept it, and say to ourselves and  that we’ve had enough. We all had just become so different that we didn’t have anything in common anymore, we didn’t see eye to eye on well…anything. And there we were, drunk in the front of some empty warehouse, staring the reality right in the face. It was a fun night, a great party, and when it was done, well, I used to miss that place, and that night I was sort of happy to see it go.

I’m bummed today.

Kind of like the way you feel when you identify with something for so long you forget who you are without it, and when it’s gone all of a sudden, there you are with that feeling something is missing. For some reason I feel alittle empty, or maybe alittle exposed, I don’t know if I’ve forgotten the difference or it’s something else entirely. And this must sound so much like we forced it, like we just one day woke up and decided it was over, but it isnt like that. It was at the point where we were just tip toeing around what was there, the stain on the carpet, trying so hard to keep this facade that wasn’t there anymore. We were all done pretending, behaving how everyone else assumed we should act. We pretended like nothing was different and that everything was as it had always been. Like it was what people expected. It wasn’t. It was mostly hollow. And also, I was never really that girl, the ones that they always hung around with. I was always just doing my own thing, and for awhile, that was enough.

Maybe I’ll see them again, and in passing we’ll smile, maybe even wave in acknowledgement that we were like family once, and that will be it.

Maybe we just need time to figure ourselves out. Be on our own for awhile before we can ever be friends, or anything again.

Maybe I just don’t want to know.

To kiss similies so deeply the metaphors get jealous.

• Its been a rough week. Not one big bad thing happened, just a bunch of little aggrovating things, for the past four days. (Its thursday night, I’m not sure WordPress is going to translate that when I post this.)
• I miss him a lot right now, and there have been all these things that happened tonight that made me think of him.
• I need a hug.
• I’m about to go do what I’ve needed to do for the past few days. I’m going to get some sleep, and feel better tomorrow.

The Taste of Ink is Getting Old

Some things are ment only for the people who were there, just for us. That’s fine, I’m really alright with that.

One of the cooks and I closed the restaurant alone last night, and I was putting the chairs up by the window and this girl walked by who looked so much like Vic that I stopped in my tracks for a second. Victoria and I worked at the movie theater in Petaluma togther, and only really sterted to get to know eachother towards the end there, a few months before I moved. She was neat. And I got to thinkin about all of them. Most of the people who I worked with at the theater, we all moved on and are doing our own thing. And there are always two things that we’ll always have in commin, the theater and Owen. When I’m in New York and Steph is workin with kids and Claire is off doing her thing andLiz in Arizona and all of us are in all these different places, there will always be that time in our lives that we had togther to look at in retrospect.  But I guess thats how it works with everyone you meet. There will always be that one party, show, phase of your life, that you all had togther.

I dunno. I’m taking really intense summer classes and working and I haven’t gotten to sleep much lately. I’m not sure how well I’m comming across anymore.