- Rob: Sometimes it still hurts. You know how it is, man. It’s like, you wake up every day and it hurts a little bit less, and then you wake up one day and it doesn’t hurt at all. And the funny thing is, is that, this is kinda wierd, but it’s like, it’s like you almost miss that pain.
- Mike: You miss the pain?
- Rob: Yeah, for the same reason that you missed her… because you lived with it for so long.
—Swingers
I’m in my last days of high-school again. Pretty much this. Feeling like I have the rest of my life ahead of me with so much to look forward to, but only cause I’m trying to shed everything that happened in the final disastrous year.
I remember writing a lot back then in this black notebook. It was filled with all these verbal scribbles, short passages of text, words, lyrics, emotions I couldn’t contain. My thoughts were a jumble, lost somewhere between the pain and the love of how it made me feel alive.
That’s how I feel now. Old habits break hard.
About once every two years I unceremoniously threw it out and bought a new one, because I hated everything in it. I never wanted to think of myself as the person who wrote all the things in there. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll look back on these entries one day and think the same.