muse:wide awake

well, it's been awhile since i've been on here. i should write more, i really should. whoops.

muse:
i really don't mean to stay awake so late at night every night. i really don't.
this terrible habit of staying up till the new day didn't really start until junior year. in that time when we were still just friends, still innocent, still unknowingly circling each other like wolves, like magnets, like something fated to eventually crash together. or fly apart. really, it could have been either. he'd call, late at night, and we'd talk about everything, anything, and nothing. it started to settle into a domestic routine.

and then it stopped. i thought it was something i'd done (because it's always something that i've done) so i made any and every attempt to apologize. the phone calls started again, but haltingly. and then i told him all about those pesky feelings, sneaking up in the dark on me unaware until i was caught knee-deep in hormones. and then the calls stopped. again.

an interesting philosophy i've started subscribing to:

friends don't cut themselves out of their friends' lives. even if it is best for them, they don't do it abruptly. shouldn't do it abruptly. they should start with small things. small threads. and then keep pulling, keep pulling until the stitch has come undone. but they also should make sure that the whole structure is still intact, still maintaining its integrity. because it's a heavy burden to take. nobody wants to be responsible for a complete collapse.

so, though things have changed so much, there are some things that still remain as ghosts of that time before. i still stay up until ass-crack-of-dawn o'clock, and he still doesn't know how much he's hurt me. i want to tell him, but i'm not willing to take that jump of that cliff and be weak in front of him again. even if it that means gaining my wings and flying free of this, i'm still not going to. because sometimes status quo is god, and sometimes i'm just too selfish to even bother trying to see how both of us could grow from this.

don't tell me that i'm strong, because i'm not. i'm just one hair away from snapping. i'm brittle. i keep reforming to stand up to new situations, but in no way am i strong. if i were strong, i'd be able to tell him that he's hurt me. i'd be willing to do it. i would dive headfirst and emerge from the airport without any bags. scot-free, no stupid checked bags fee. because they'd all be gone.