I'm cutting out some of the parts because it gets personal so it might sound stupid to an outsider.
Also, I wrote this back in... December?
I just read a letter I wrote you last summer, I predicted my summer. Things were different. Things DID change. I DID live my life on the edge for a bit. I picked up a vice, had to quit cold turkey a month ago and now I've picked up another vice. (Coffee) Coffee and cigarettes? Not really, just coffee. I need stimulants. I hate what I've become. I hate that I set myself up for everything. Reading that letter, it's so fucked up. I wanted to change myself, I felt boring and dull. I wasn't boring and dull last summer. Summer of two thousand and eight. We rarely saw each other. I lost control. I told people things that were not true. I acted out (for what reason? I have no idea). I write these, with the intention of giving them to you, but it always ends up being a letter to myself. Dates. I'm late. Not on period, I'm late figuring out who I am. I still don't know. I'm so lost. I want to be trendy, I don't. I still want to smoke a cigarette, but I don't. Addiction it's worse than they say (I think about it every day... still)
I probably most likely don't make any sense.
I'm listening to Close But Not Quite, a miniature Gym Class Heroes and sipping on coffee (yup!)
I'm writing, I'm actually writing.
I haven't written anything for months.
I love you. "I gave you my heart and you stole my pride"- CBNQ.
Don't ask, won't tell.