Grievances Acknowledged

This is my public forum where I’ve spilled my guts for the last…it feels like seven, maybe eight years. I’ve learned some stuff over the time, especially when I retrace my steps through high school and college through my own words. Vividly, I see where I came from that led me to take a nap under a campus tree two days ago. That was one of the things on my bucket list: lounge on the lawn as if I didn’t have a care in the world. I did have quite a few things on my mind, but it went down the drain the minute I laid supine. I aced my performance in class, which was pretty decent. I barely rehearsed, improvised, and well, did my thing the way only I can. Funny, I aced my last performance, but it didn’t feel quite as good as this one; last time, I had to pull myself out of a hole because of what I saw beforehand.

I talked to Skylar today for the first time in what could be a month or two. Productive conversation, it seems we’ve both had our ups and downs. You never truly appreciate the effect someone has on you until they’re gone. Of course, it could be minuscule, but every little second counts. It’s been on my list of things to do, but you can never be too sure of when the time is right. I took a gamble, and what followed was a brief conversation that was long on substance, yet short on words. Or at least, on his part. Overall, the debriefing went well enough where there was no more damage done, and who knows, we could tear shit up again down the line. Well, probably not, but we’re at least open to the idea of not killing each other. A lot of time has been lost, but the world didn’t end. We have two more events this semester, possibly a couple more; who knows what Those Young Knockout Kids could do if given the time to collaborate. Funny thing to note, we’ve both been sick the whole damn time we weren’t speaking. Not sure if it was a sympathetic illness, but that’s pretty awkward with all due respect.

While I’m on the subject of fences and mending them, this one’s to you, Pippa Bowen. I’m quite sure by now you’ve gotten the idea that I know you’re reading here. Despite conventional wisdom stating you hate me, you still read my entries every couple of days or so. First, I’m flattered; I’ve always wanted my words to get out to the masses. But here’s my question: why? Twice, you’ve aimed towards killing my career and really, doing rehabilitation on my image was not my idea of fun. Countless times, we’ve fought and the last time, there were ramifications that pushed me back towards the physician’s office where I received unpleasant news that you probably have heard in passing. I thought the saga was unfortunately over, but I see your footprints in my feedback log. I’ve spoken with my friends about what the hell happened, and I keep hearing the same thing: too many differences. However, if I’m guilty of not letting go, you’re just as guilty because, again, I feel your presence here. Don’t think for a minute I haven’t heard the charges and arrows you’ve levied against me, because I’ve heard it all despite not really wanting to listen. On December 5th, I had the time of my life because I was with the girl I loved. Back in Arizona, I had the time of my life with the moment available. You can’t hate me for living life when I was practically left for dead. I cringe anytime I think of you being happy without me, because I wanted to be the one that made you happy, yet you walked away from everything. I sleep sometimes clutching on to what put the biggest smile on my face, seeing you hand me my glasses after I left your place after the party. Those were happy times; not all were perfect, but there was more good than bad. And hence, this is where I’m asking you to make a choice, which I’m sure you saw coming. We could have a conversation in any medium you prefer, or stop reading my journal. There’s no way I can enforce anything, so I will reserve the right to post my thoughts on every intimate moment we had if you choose to read without addressing me personally. You said you wanted to move on, and as much as you like your privacy, I’m quite sure you understand that my words do not ring hollow. You know my screenname if you elect the first option, and you understand how not to visit my site per the second option.

Thank you for reading, and as always, divide the day.

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