no but seriously. it's like every time I come to evansville, it's the same old loop and i always write the same thing. aside from select friends who don't piss me off (blake, ivy), I generally feel reinforced in my decision to leave evansville by the time my visit is over, soaking in the few sun-streaked bits of happiness from coffee with blake or campy horror films with ivy & time spent biking or driving alone with music. these introspective moments are what I take from evansville, because there is always so much going on in Chicago that I don't get quiet moments like that in the hustle & bustle.
I hate writing so much about Dylan because when I am in Chicago and am happy, I don't think about him. but being back in evansville puts me in this weird state of being in which I am always on guard that we'll end up next to each other at a stoplight or something, and I just hate it. it makes me really self-aware, and not in a good way. I just feel like the whole breakup was this big childish thing, fuel for a melodramatic novel about the two of us standing five feet from each other behind the desk at Solaris, singing along to the same song in spite of the other. Even almost a year and a half after breaking up, he's still commenting on mutual friends' facebook statuses about how funny he is (literally "what a great comedian I am," wtf), right after I comment on it. it makes me laugh! and I'm just so glad to be over that inbred Midwestern, immature bullshit. I am thankful for the real love that we shared, but I'm done feeling sorry for myself and I'm way past feeling sorry for him. romanticizing that bullshit is over.
anyways! driving home tonight from Dustin's, the Smiths came on (melodramatic sadcore to the max) and I sang along the whole way home like an idiot, drumming on the steering wheel and everything. and I thought about all this, and how I don't want to go to Chicago on Sunday but I also don't want to stay here because I feel static. and Chicago makes me feel not static, my classes push me forward to internships and jobs and bars and relationships and becoming a real human being, not a child in the body of an almost 21-year-old. listening to sadcore music on 41 with the windows down is the only static I always enjoy, and it will probably always make me happy and will therefore get romanticized 9 ways to Sunday on here.
I'm going to paint my room when I get back, and find ways to keep moving forward.
Also, Blake: my blogger was somehow malfunctioning and didnt show your last post until just now. had I known you were feeling empty I would have brought you chai and told you all the reasons why you are my best friend in the world. I hope you are feeling less empty now <3 p="">
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