Oh, Kemple, how could you betray me like that? Sigh. When I first heard the news, I was extremely angry. I’d never felt such a rush of blood come to my face and my heart. How could you do this to me, Kemple? But of course he doesn’t realise that anything is wrong. That’s fine with me.
I’m not too worried about Kemple, anymore. What I’m worried more about is that I’ve noticed a pattern in my strange life. I’ve always needed some kind of emotional investment in some guy, which is a problem. Stepping back, I realise how detrimental that is to my sense of self, if that makes sense. Why do I always need to attach something to a guy? It’s almost like I’m bored with my life, always looking for something to do with the vast amount of attention I want to dedicate to so many things. Or more like I’m losing focus of the important stuff in life and wanting to divert my attention to unimportant things. Of course, romance is a big part of life, and yet I choose to prioritise that. Damn. Well, I’ve had a fair amount of time to think about it, and I’m happy with my academics, even though it was shot to shit from the beginning. My post-high school life relies on one written application and my final ATAR. Damn…but I still want to be distracted. If you have a token of affection no matter how fake for me, I’ll take it. If you have a shot of alcohol to offer me, I’ll take it. I’m neither a slut nor an alcoholic. I’m simply experimenting. I like the way both make me feel though. Which is silly, but true.
I figured out what wanderlust is. I have a form of that, a desire to explore the world, but exploring the world through worldly experiences, well any kind of experience I guess. I’m building my own character, finding myself. I think I need a great deal of self-respect and that doesn’t just come out of nowhere, but oh well.
Since I was sixteen, seventeen, I’ve felt the shift. I remember the feelings I had for an old friend. Recently we’ve started talking again, and the feelings are no longer there, but the memory of them is. How I invested emotionally in him in my later junior school years…the memory is there…what am I even saying hahaha
Blob I miss you. I don’t even know what I should call you other than with the pet names we used to use for each other. I guess I still love you, but not as much as I used to. I care about you and your health, but we haven’t kept in contact for so long. Such are high school relationships, aren’t they…short-lived, full of whirlwind romance neither party understands…
I have a lot on my mind and lately the only way to clear up my confusion and sadness is to write it all out in my notebook and not worry about what the words mean.