rewrites this song
[ 2008-01-21 - 1:54 a.m.]

this entire website seems so, for lack of better and more eloquent words, retro. i have spent the last hour or so reading old livejournal entries and moving onto diaryland ones. (and oh god i remember when it was a huge ordeal to move from diaryland to livejournal.) i feel as though i am writing this to a select few, though i doubt anyone will ever actually discover this. however, i recall the TG days in which kristen and annelise and me and eventually beth took this all oh so seriously.

day to day, week to week, and mostly month to month i find myself in complete awe as to how much i've changed and matured. however, it's reassuring to discover through websites like this one that my writing style hasn't changed too much. (hopefully, again, the subject matter is slightly more adult.) it's a comforting feeling to realize that no matter how much is altered day to day, i'm still the original version of myself.

i find myself listening to old mix c.d.s and laughing at how cute and emo i was (/am). however, i read my old lists of favorite bands on my diaryland profile only to realize that they're all still, to this day, my favorite bands. i like to to think that i've grown up with the bands. say anything demos fit perfectly when i was 17. '...is a real boy' was me at 20. and 'in defense of the genre' makes my life more content at 22. every single band i love and have loved had matured right alongside with me. in some indescribable manner (and i hope you can relate for purpose of clarity) this fact affirms that i am who i am. my maturity level has increased, but my true self hasn't been altered by the chaos of the last few years. if i can continue to be this strong throughout my twenties, i'm golden.


i've been dating the same guy, micah, for about 3 - 4 weeks. i can't actually write much about this anywhere else (ie. myspace) due to the fact that memphis is the most gossip-ridden myspace-stalked town i've ever come into contact. then again, it doesn't help that i met micah through the last guy i (thought i) had feelings for and that he's friends (directly or indirectly) with all of my friends in this town. you know, for being the largest city in tennessee, this is the smallest town i've ever lived in.

i like micah. i really do. however, he's so incredibly opposite of any guy i've ever dated that i find myself frustrated and baffled- moreso at myself than him. i don't even know how to go into any form of description without making either him or i sound like a complete tool.

it's as though every single quality i've hated in the previous relationships i've been in (ie. no real job, poor as fuck, no goals in life sans 'getting signed'), micah contains the opposite. however, on the flip side, i'm used to guys continuously telling me how they feel about me, what they like about me, where we stand. and micah, once again, is entirely opposite of them. i adore it. and i'm confused by it. i don't know if he's my boyfriend. when, in adulthood, does such a label go into affect?

it also doesn't help that in my four months of being single, i formed the theory that guys don't actually care about women, nor do they ever genuinely want to spend time with them. i had fully convinced myself that women were just a task to guys. due to past experience and observations and four months to think it all over, i was a full believer in this new frame of mind.

i feel my doubts unfairly being applied to micah. i'm terrified that i'm not going be able to give him the benefit of the doubt; that i won't ever believe he wants to spend time with me, despite how many times he's reassured me that he does. no matter how frustrated he gets at me when, while making plans for the evening, i let him know that he "doesn't have to spend time with me."

i do realize that this is a new relationship and that all new relationships taking getting used to. i guess i've just never been so 100% confused by one. i've never spent every single night (tonight being the 4th in 24 days) together and still not known how the other feels.


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