I keep a journal. Some days, I find that what I write inside just begs to be published. And what do you know? I have edonn.com for that, heh. Here’s some excerpts from my journal regarding my love life:
I know that I’ve said that she doesn’t matter anymore, especially on a romantic front, but even then, she still excites me somewhat; sometimes. And it’s that excitement which is really so sweet.
I love the feeling of being in love, of uncertainty; of not knowing exactly what you know. But sometimes you just get that feeling that maybe you’ve been doing it so long you have lost sight of why you’re doing it in the first place, and all that matters is that you continue doing it.
Later on in the entry, I continued:
Now, there’s a little problem with ______. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but there’s no way I’m going to be… No, wait, I forgot, I’m not interested in ______.
The person whose feelings I didn’t want to hurt was this guy who is wooing the girl I forgot I wasn’t interested in. A Freudian slip perhaps?
I don’t know what was up with me, but as I wrote this entry I forgot I wasn’t in love with this person. It was quite funny really, as the fact suddenly dawned on me. I think it was just the freewriting, making me say stupid things. But it was cute.
Oh, and she’s cute, too.
Almost as cute as me. Heh.
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