when you are with someone who is your own, your face lights up. It metamorphises (sp?). I observed that about someone today. I must be used to it by now..having to leave the room just because their SO called. Or having to have them tell you that you are not as important to them as their SO even though its you that they come to first when they have problems with the SO. I don't mind it really...although I used to before. I don't know why I don't mind it anymore.

Sometimes you have just got to admit that you can't live the way you always have. You can't merely have a conversation just because you hate being alone. You can't merely assume you are someone's closest friend just because they tell you things. If anything, they are just stories within stories. Nothing more, nothing less unless they mean more to you.

I miss art. I really do. I wish I could just take up my charcoal and DRAW. But I can't. I wish the words would come flying to me...but they don't. I wish I could write my story...but I can't bring myself to. I wish I could just DO something that makes me feel like I am "someone" instead of a dead, stale object.