Sunday, October 05, 2003
I'd be asleep by now, if it weren't for another late night drunken call from Emily. Two nights in a row, she must be having a rough time. Well of course it's a rough time, this age, that is. We turn twenty, realize we need to find a direction, then realize we're just sort of floating, and often start to panic to one degree or another. I know I've seen this in other friends... in a way it's a very typical sort of phase for people that age, yet I find myself quite sensitive to those feelings, even if I didn't exactly go through them myself. I hope she's doing alright and I guess I'll email to check up on her in a few days.
So I only started writing in this blog recently, after much pushing from Drew, but I've kept a diary for quite some time now. And although Lee might call me a narcissistic bastard for doing this, I occasionally like to read through my diary. It's easier to examine myself from a more detached point of view after time has passed, and that was what I was doing this evening, just before Emily called.
When I think of my feelings for Hanna, I sometimes worry that all I wanted from her was somebody to help me heal from the heartbreak from my past. And that, to me, sounds like a very selfish sort of love, and not the kind of feelings that should be cherished. But reading through my diary, through perhaps some of the most honest words that I have ever written, convinces me that my feelings for her do stand on their own. And I become more confident about the passionate feelings that I felt so unworthy of, as they start to burn again.
Now I realize that I'm awake at four in the morning, thinking about this... I guess I just miss Hanna. I haven't heard from her in 3 weeks. But now it's time for sleep.
So I only started writing in this blog recently, after much pushing from Drew, but I've kept a diary for quite some time now. And although Lee might call me a narcissistic bastard for doing this, I occasionally like to read through my diary. It's easier to examine myself from a more detached point of view after time has passed, and that was what I was doing this evening, just before Emily called.
When I think of my feelings for Hanna, I sometimes worry that all I wanted from her was somebody to help me heal from the heartbreak from my past. And that, to me, sounds like a very selfish sort of love, and not the kind of feelings that should be cherished. But reading through my diary, through perhaps some of the most honest words that I have ever written, convinces me that my feelings for her do stand on their own. And I become more confident about the passionate feelings that I felt so unworthy of, as they start to burn again.
Now I realize that I'm awake at four in the morning, thinking about this... I guess I just miss Hanna. I haven't heard from her in 3 weeks. But now it's time for sleep.
