good intentions.

i left work a little earlier today than i had planned. went to take a brief tour of a printing warehouse on Printer's Row, followed by a bit too much tea at a nearby cafe. good conversation with Mister Thursday. the guy gets me, maybe more than would make me comfortable, but it is always nice when someone can understand what i mean. i have been stressed as of late. this afternoon was much needed. too many cigarettes. a habit i am still trying to break... one that would have been easy if i still had the inspiration. then a long walk to catch a very crowded red line train. hours before i should have worried, yet a few stops still make me look up nervously, concerned i might see someone who would rather not see me. these days, i do not even know if i would want to glimpse him. everything is confusing. always.

in most ways, i have moved on. obviously, i am still existing without him, without his friendship. but in some ways it is only existing. the thing i cannot ignore is that i have no reason to want him around when he cared so little that i was so easy to drop. no concerns, no worries, no consideration for how i might feel. i would love to believe that he is secretly agonizing over the way he has treated me, knowing how awful these months have been. i know that is wishful thinking. he does not care. really, if he had ever felt love for me at all, friends or otherwise... if i had been important... this abrupt disconnect would not have been so easy. which brings me to that horrid realization that i put all of my trust and faith and love (none of which i can easily give) into someone fake.

regardless of all of that... knowing those things, those infallible "truths"... that foolish part of me that loved him cannot seem to believe those "truths" and all i want is proof that i was right all along to give in.

i suppose this is that gullible side of myself. the one that few people really think exists. i put on a front of thinking everyone is shitty and that everyone will fuck me over. yes, i believe that, but only 98%. sometimes, people get through. he did. that does not mean i do not feel like i got fucked over. i do. but i am forgiving to a fault.

i hate missing anyone.