Christ, I'm too old to start writing a diary. Everyday I sit and think: I've really got to start keeping a log. I'm starting to forget some of my life, and it's scary. I am only 25. What will it be like when I'm 60? Will I remember any of this?
And this is not really a good place to keep a private diary. Anyone can read it. But screw it. I don't care.
I woke up this morning next to my girlfriend. We've broken up and gotten back together so many times I feel like a china cup that you don't want to get rid of because it is (was?) so beautiful, but is already more glue than china. Goddamn it, why are realtionships so hard? And should they be? I remember the beginning. I was so in love I sometimes had trouble breathing. And now it's gotten to be so difficult. Love and needs and differences and misunderstandings. And routine? Is that what we'd gotten into?
I just thought about what would happen if she read this. Or if we break up and my next girlfriend read this. What would I do if I stumbled upon something my girlfriend wrote about a love of hers a while back? I think I would go nuts.
Too much emotion. I feel like it's tearing me up. It's difficult to do the things I have to. What I wouldn't give for a boring life right now. I haven't been bored in far too long.
Then again, if I was dead inside, I guess I would think "What I wouldn't give for excitement", even if it meant feeling shitty.
Is that all we are? Always wanting to be where we're not? Never satisfied? Or at least never satisfied for long?
"Life is pain, highness, anyone who says differently is selling something."
- The Dread Pirate Roberts, The Princess Bride