after all the weirdness before i left, i’m ready for a fresh start. i’m still not 100 percent sure about things with the boy - but i realized i need to be comfortable with that. i’ve always prided myself on my ability to be comfortable with ambiguity, and i need to stay true to that. yes, i have made mistakes, and i don’t know what will happen in the future, but as long as this where we both want to be, right now, i think we’re okay. i do need to address some things with him, and make this relationship work a bit better for me, and i need to hold on to my independence more tightly.

but now is the time. that’s why i quit my job, practically and symbolically. i have more time to do things i love, more time to think about what i want from the future, more time to be productive in school, and more time to dedicate to my relationships.

i’m feeling inspired, gotta make this stick around.

i haven’t felt this chaotic, this messy, in a long time. it’s a feeling i alternately love and hate. i depend on it, i think, to remind me i’m here. but then what am i left with? does it make me stronger - to stop eating, to drink too much, to sleep around? could i be different? i’ve tried, but it usually means isolating myself. or isolating myself with you. i’m worried about today, every time you’re gone i worry that i’ll stop loving you. i always stop missing you. 

in addition to everything else fucked up that happened last night, i freaked out about not having grandparents. like, cried in the bathroom freaked out. it’s not something that i usually think about, especially because compared to my dad, whose parents died when he was in his 20s, i’m amazingly lucky. but i talk to people my age, a few years older, 10 years older, who still have grandparents in their lives and it makes me almost angry. my grandpa is still alive, but he’s an alcoholic, and he’s sort of letting himself die, or so we think. my grandma died a few years ago, and it was probably a blessing - she had alzheimer’s, and she died of pneumonia before it really advanced. and even at her best, she wasn’t a warm, fuzzy “grandma” type either. but she was all i had, and i loved her, and i know she loved me. she paid for all my dance lessons growing up, loved hearing about school, and all my little milestones. but she died when i was 16. it sounds superficial, but prom made me sad because i knew she would have loved seeing the photos, the dress, the hair, the whole thing, hearing the story. (she didn’t live nearby) same goes for high school graduation, and starting college, and my first serious boyfriend… and eventually, college graduation, and worst of all (assuming it happens) - my wedding. so yeah, i just… i don’t have that in my life, and it makes me sad. and like i said, it sounds selfish - especially compared to my dad’s experience. i’m amazingly lucky to have my parents, and my whole family… but with the exception of my swiftly-declining grandpa, the whole generation before them has died. i dunno where i’m going with this, and i don’t know what made me think of it last night, i was drunk. but you know, it pops up every now and then… 

what am i doing again? and how the fuck did that happen?

it’s between kandy, sri lanka and pune, india, i think.