More than a few years ago when I was in the beginning of that strange roller coaster of depression and aggitated energy and anger, some old friends got in touch with me. I could barely stomach to see them. I never bothered to keep in touch. I didn't return phone calls. I'd hang and rehash old times and learn about the whhat in their lives for that one night but nothing else again. I couldn't stand it. I hated how I had to be so plastic and fake and act like everything was a-okay when I was scared out of my mind. And worse still? What if they noticed it was all an act? See in the begining, when all of this really kicked off (though it started a long time before), I was still faking it. I was still able to. It was so hard. I didn't want these old friends which were part of better times intermingled at all in the noise that was becoming my life.

I miss these people and wish I was well enough not to have let them go a second time.

No reason to dwell too much it's just that sometimes I really miss certain people and wonder what it is exactly that's become of them. I still sporadically keep in touch with K. but she's rather very busy with school and kids and a husband. That'd be time consuming I assume. I know just having a boyfriend kept me busy last year. I couldn't imagine juggling the rest.

I'm lonely for a relationship. Duh. I talk about that too much. I like having a boyfriend. I wonder what it'd be like to have a serious relationship? I've never really had one. I was in love with D. but at the same time I feel as if that relationship was anything but serious.

Dave Matthews album Some Devil reminds me of D. And to this day I still can't listen to Coldplay.

I'm reading a hilarious book called Hyporcrite In A White Poufy Dress.

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