Beginning @ MindSay

Well, here I am, again writing and enjoying the release of all the stress I can't seem to just let go. Welcome another year, but is that really the start of a new beginning? I want to run thats my new beginning. I want to run far away feel the air as it flies by, my hair never falling down, everything blurring. I want to run so hard, that the only thing I can hear are the pound of my steps and the race of my heart and shallow breath. I want to look into a mirror and say good-bye to all the things that have gotten me here, I want to change my name and disappear. I want to forget what it is like to have your heartbreak, or the caress of my lover on a long winters night. I want to forget his face, his voice, his eyes, and the way he makes my heart flutter. I want to find someone who loves me more then I can love him. I want to forget the broken promises, I want to run and have someone look at me and tell me I am beautiful. I want to be special again, I want it all to stop. Maybe I am selfish, or maybe I am desperate. I just know another year is coming, another year of my life is closed and nothing has gotten better, and my love is once again abused. Is it me am I not worth loving, am I not worth forever? I want to know everything, but I just want to run and be somewhere to begin again, to love again, to be loved, and most importantly to smile.

A way of life
Current mood: inspired

snow hadn't fallen yet that year...

everyone was waiting, listening..

for the first snowflake to kiss the ground..

for the mystical winter's breath to bring

beauty in the twilight hours..

she waited...

not only for snow....

but for him...

For she knew , when they were finally together...

her life would never be quite the same,

She knew, that in that moment , he would

make her whole again, open up her eyes to a world of wonder and bliss ..

and nothing could be more beautiful in her eyes he thought to herself...

And just as the promise of the winter snow...

She knew his love for her would stand the test of time...

Though he be an ocean of frozen tundra away...

She knew in her heart of hearts..

That this was just the beginning....

And then suddenly as if a comfort

to her weary thoughts...

Snow began to fall..

And the vow of a new tomorrow began to dawn on the horizon....

I'm trying to catch up with everyone's entries from this weekend.  I was internet-less from Friday morning through yesterday afternoon.  I moved into my apartment on Friday.  So, other than a few odds and ends that I still need to move over, I'm done with the house.

 

I wasn't sure how I'd feel about it, but I think it's the best move I could have made.  I talked to six24  Friday evening after the moving was done and he said I sounded more excited than I have since this all started.  My dad said the same thing when I talked to him Saturday night.  He thought I sounded really good.  Personally, I don't notice the difference when I'm talking to people, but I know I feel better.  It's nice to know that there aren't any pictures of her sitting around, and there are no memories that include her in this place.  I think there were times this weekend when I forgot all about her, and it's a great feeling when I realize I've been able to do that for awhile.

 

This situation sucks, but I am a lucky man.  I have one of the greatest groups of friends anyone could ever hope for.  Eight people came to help me move, another one or two would have if they didn't have to work.  Most of these are people who are also friends with my wife, and the amount of support they're showing for me is really overwhelming. 

 

The separation agreement has been completed.  I reviewed it again on Sunday and gave my attorney the OK to send it out to my wife yesterday.  She should be getting it this week.  In my last meeting with the attorney, we decided to put a statement in the agreement attempting to get half of the down payment on the house back.  It will be interesting to see what my wife has to say about that.  I think it's more than fair, but we'll see.

 

So, other than that stuff, my weekend was mainly spent organizing the apartment, unpacking boxes.  Played some pool and drank some beers at my friends' place Friday night, tried Indian food for the first time on Saturday.  A good weekend, really.  A starting point.

I am eighteen years old and about to die. Oh, not in the sense that you're thinking. I don't have a knife to my throat; I'm not being held at gunpoint; I don't have three bottles of aspirin in my stomach. But as I'm about to die, I figure this is as good a time as any to start documenting my life, before it ends.

I'm not someone special. I haven't accomplished great feats in my life. I haven't saved children and I haven't created a new program of charity nor have I discovered the cure to anything. Reading this is pointless, because you won't discover anything. I'm as unincredible and as unremarkable as they come. They won't talk about me in the media, and if you google my name, I'm not any of the people that show up. This autobiography is not meant to be something special. It's not meant to have theories written after it and it's not meant to be studied nor discussed in book clubs. In fact, I hope this never gets published, if only for the fact that there are enough worthless books on the shelves and I'd hate to add my own to it. This autobiography is worthless.

My life, however, is not.

There will be no chronological order to this. There will be no... sense to be had, no index to reference. There will be no timeline; no people that you recognize; no explanation and no apologies throughout this. Just me. Just me, and the clicking of the keys on the laptop before my life ends.

I woke up this morning with a terrible hangover from this weekend, sore in the face and sick to my head. I spent the weekend with Westi and Josh, getting blitzed beyond belief, to the point of not being able to remember much of it. I'm not even sure how I got home last night, but my car is here and in one piece so I guess I drove. Liquor is something that's still relatively new to me, so I while it doesn't take much to get me wasted, I still like to think that I can hold my own. My roommates are watching something in the other room, some sort of... angry thrashing and yelling is going on the television. It always makes me wonder: with all of the anger on television these days, what would happen if I heard a struggle going on in one of the nearby apartments? How easy would it be for me to write it off as a television show turned up too loud? And what's more, if I came back to find a police line and people being questioned and a distressed college girl with her blonde hair draping her face in her hands sobbing, would I feel guilty?

How desensitized am I?

I took a punch to the face yesterday. There was a guy in a button-up shirt a size too small and pants that looked like they'd fit his girlfriend saying something terrible about Shae. Doesn't matter if what he was saying was true or not, all that mattered was that he was saying it. I decked him and as he was going down he decked me. Nick had to pull me off and throw me in the car and tell me, "Drive." I might be violent with a little alcohol in me. Or at least, my violent tendancies are on the surface far more than when I'm sober. Something to consider in the short time I have left.

Ah. Dinner.