Recliner and To-Go orders

I'll start with this thought first, mostly because it's the most pointless and above all, it was a brilliant idea. I moved my recliner into my bedroom and now use it as a computer chair. Done. Best idea I've ever had. Yeah, I had to take it apart to fit through the door and I can't recline all the way..but my butt sure is comfy.

Second thought:

I was sitting at Chili's waiting for my to-go order and I had been sitting there for probably 5 minutes or so. They came over and offered me a free drink while I waited, but I refused because I wasn't going to be there for much longer. This man that had came in before me was sitting next to me and they asked him if he wanted a drink as well. He accepted. Now, I'm a snoop, so I looked down at his receipt and realized that he had a similar order to mine. I figured, he'll probably get his first. He had one order, I had one order, he had been sitting there longer than me...makes sense, right? Now start taking notes! Because I had refused their free drink, all of the Chili's personnel were worried that I wasn't comfortable. They seriously asked me 3 or 4 more times if I wanted a drink. They were sincerely worried that I was peeved. In reality...I just didn't want to hold a cold drink in my hands when it was 55 degrees outside. I ended up getting my food before the man did. Surprising, eh? I just found this interesting. They hustled to get me my food because I wasn't sitting there with a free-be in my hands, sucking it down. I didn't look like a comfortable customer.

Moral? You can get results a lot faster if you don't take the sugar-coated bull that comes before it.

Remember?

I remember the good times. The great times. That's all I see. I don't look at how it ended. I don't look at our fights. I don't think I ever will. I don't remember the rambles of irritation. I don't remember the annoyed texts. I just remember the ones that said, "I love you." "I miss you." "I want to be with you."

Remember those? I know you are reading this. So, hi.

I remember the mornings waking up, seeing you there, and just smiling. I remember snuggling up because close was never close enough. I remember hearing your strained voice as you were trying to wake up, the annoyance that lied in it. The constant, "Wake up! Wake up!" annoyed you to no end, but it was the "wake up" of christmas morning. It was the excitement that lie in the day ahead..with you.

I remember the evenings of cooking dinner. You'd ask me to step aside because you knew I would burn it. I'd sit on the counter, watching you with that towel draped over your left shoulder and wondering how I got so lucky. I'd ask you if you needed help, I would chop the onion...the wrong way...and you just smiled.

I remember the nights that I felt so loved, just because you held me in that way. We would be lying on the couch, a typical night, and watch a movie. "Am I squishing you?" You'd give me that look and respond, "You could and would never squish me.." and smile.

I can't remember the fighting. It's all drowned out by all the great that happened. I wish you could remember that too.

Whoppers are disgusting

Today, I was sitting in my bed, catching up on my facebook, when I reached over and grabbed this box of whoppers that I had gotten in my Christmas stocking (which had somehow ended up on my side table) and started eating them. They. Were. Disgusting. But yet, as I sat there, I munched away on the yummy chocolate outside, only to find a dry disgusting taste of malted milk on the inside.

Ew.

So, I as I sat there, consuming calories that I didn't need, I thought to myself, "Why on earth am I still eating these?"

Americans have been trained to eat and drink calories that they don't even really like, because 1) everyone does it, 2) everyone is supposed to like it, or 3) you're just plain...bored. If you examine the evidence, you can't help but think it's true.

For instance, does anyone actually like the taste of beer? Does anyone taste it and say, "Mmm, oh my god, that hit the spot. It tastes sooooo good." No. No one does that. It might be refreshing, but most people have to force back the taste. So why do we drink it? Because when you are in college, you are supposed to drink it. You are supposed to like it. It is liquid courage for God's sake! But if Kool-aid had the same effect as beer did, a.k.a. making you look like a complete idiot, then you would choose Kool-aid over beer, hands down. Face it, it's the truth.

So why do we do it? Because honestly, Americans are idiots and can't think for themselves. Drink what you like. Eat what you like. Screw the rest.

That...thing.

I miss him, I do, but I'm ready to get started again. The thing is, I miss the feeling more. You know the feeling that I'm talking about? The feeling that comes along with liking someone so much, you not only get butterflies in your stomach, you smile until you face hurts and there's a lump in your throat. The feeling that makes you want to dance around your room for the hell of it. The feeling of being wanted.

I miss that, above all. I never noticed, but the weeks that pass when you are just getting to know someone are the absolute best. The mystery, the wonder. The unknown. It's positively remarkable. The thing is, it's not about who they are, what they do, what their family is like...it's about how they make you feel. If they don't make you feel remarkable, beautiful, positively perfect, then that's not the person for you. Look for that thrill, look for that excitement, and when you get it, don't let it go.

Search for that whisper of a thrill, you never know, lightning could strike.

Out with the old, in with the new.

I just got out of a serious relationship (call it what you want, but it was serious to me). It would probably be the first serious relationship I have had, ever. I thought I loved him. I really was under the impression that I did. I look back and realize, I wasn't in love. I was obsessed. It just shows how often, we, as young people, throw the "L" word around. It isn't something that can just be felt. We think it's so easy to fall in love. It's really not. It's easy to fall in love with obsession, with habit, with comfort, with protection, etc. With me? It was the habit. I was in love with talking everyday. I was in love with knowing that he would be there. I was in love with all these things, and I didn't look at the fact that I was NOT in love with who I was in this relationship. I had lost myself. That's what love is. Loving who the other person is (even their flaws) and loving how they impact your life.

Yes, I won't lie. It hurts. I'm hurt. But it's for the better. That's what you have to keep telling yourself. It's for the better. I'M for the better. I need to find myself again. No more boys until I know who I am. I've been hopping from guy to guy and have never had "me" time. Let's get that time back, shall we?

Fire.

Fire. It's possibly one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen. It burns without taking notice. It will rage on until there is no more fuel. It's dangerous. It's out of control. It's beautiful.

Love is a lot like that fire. It can be out of control. It can be dangerous. It can be beautiful.

What happens when that fire dwindles though?

Fire can't stay lit forever.

Is this metaphor even accurate in accordance with love? I honestly don't know the answer to that...

but keep on burning...

Regret.

I'm not perfect. He told me that I was, but tonight is a prime example of how I am NOT. I never claimed that I was, nor have I ever done anything that would make it appear so. I make mistakes.

Do you want to know what's really worrying me right now? To tell you the truth, I'm not worried about you being mad. I'm not worried about you forgiving me. I'm not worried about any of that. I'm more worried that you think YOU made a mistake... a mistake on me. Maybe you thought that I was some "ideal woman", and now I've turned out typical. A typical girl trying to figure everything out. That is what worries me. Maybe I'm not good enough for you? Maybe all in all, you did waste 3 months on me. Maybe waiting for me wasn't as fulfilling as you thought it would be. All these "maybes"...and no answer. If I tell you how I feel, maybe you won't tell me the truth in reciprocation. Maybe...maybe...maybe.

Only two words can fix situations like these. I'm sorry. And yet...it seems so inadequate.