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<title>Applause for the Wallflower</title>
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<subtitle>Though she swears she's not shy.</subtitle>
<updated>2009-07-23T05:25:40-04:00</updated>
<rights>All Rights Reserved blogSpirit</rights>
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<author>
<name></name>
<uri>http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/about.html</uri>
</author>
<title>Drink it all in.</title>
<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/archive/2009/07/23/drink-it-all-in.html" />
<id>tag:holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com,2009-07-23:1799064</id>
<updated>2009-07-23T05:25:40-04:00</updated>
<published>2009-07-23T05:25:40-04:00</published>
<category term="Journal Entry" scheme="http://www.blogspirit.com/ns/types#category" />
<summary> I've found it strange and difficult this past year to come to my computer...</summary>
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&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I've found it strange and difficult this past year to come to my computer and harness enough stamina to exclaim the goings-on with my life. I find that when I'm mostly carefree with nothing to complain about, I must find my blog untouched. But today--yesterday--was a strange day.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I attempted, to no avail, to describe how I felt about what he'd said to me. Frankly, I don't really know what to feel. To tell you the truth, I don't know if it's even worth worrying about because with his track record, the idea will be soon mowed over just as quickly as it had grown--new and exciting things in his life tend to fizzle out and flop like that. So I wonder if it's worth working myself up over. And I know how much it'll...well I don't really know how he'll feel when he reads that this is what I think of his current prospects. I'm not scared though. Normally, in situations such as these, I'd be afraid to be offensive, opting to keep my mouth shut. But I know he will check this and read it eventually, if not sooner than later. In any case, I'm not afraid now. I'm not afraid of hurting his feelings or annoying him or causing some sort of contemplation in his mind. I encourage it, and I hope he can understand what I have to say.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Let me start with this: for so long, I'd been used to hearing the ideology of a genuine soldier through the eyes of the one battered (and I use this word very loosely)&amp;nbsp;soul that had been left to scrape up the pieces when he'd left--about the truth in service, about honor of patriotism, about the prestige of his personal mission. And here I am, little old me, with my boyfriend who, as he so eloquently described, soaks the benefits of the government. I can't lie; for a while, this is the substance I believed made up the man I claimed to love, but deep down, I yearned for someone with a true sense of duty and moral fiber, someone I could be proud of. And I can't lie here either: what can I be proud of? Such a selfish, vapid reason to push someone along, down a path to possible destruction (most literally),&amp;nbsp;but admittedly, I claim to be nothing more than a base and shallow girlfriend seeking to fill the &quot;my-boyfriend-is-better-than-your's&quot; role.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;So hearing that he &lt;em&gt;wants&lt;/em&gt; to be more than a boy playing Army waiting for his next meal ticket, it is music to my ears. He has yet again returned to that endearing man that stole my heart and was everything I'd wanted--as welcome and warm to me as the moment I'd set eyes on him. He must know that this selfish drive for him to be happy makes me sick. I hope he knows. I hate myself for it day after day, every moment that passes that I think about him furthering himself, and sometimes I disgust myself with plans made all too soon based solely on a mere whim. But this is who I am, well who I am behind closed doors. Did he know this of me? Now we talk so little of ourselves, that all conversation seems to consist of is the day's activities, a hearty helping of &quot;I Love You&quot;s, and a warm goodnight before he or I fall swiftly into the comfort of sleep.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Regardless, it makes me happy to know I'm not alone in my aspirations for him to be more involved man. I think I've always known he wanted it for himself, but because I hear so little of it, it makes it difficult for me to really believe that it's absolutely true. But even so, his carefree laugh and the ease of my weight in his arms...it makes everything that much easier to accept. Rightfully, as any girlfriend would agree, I, in no sane state of mind, would ever want my love to walk, willingly mind you, into the arms of prominent danger. But as I know he wants better for himself, and of course being selfish as I am, I know that this will shock his system, perhaps, out of the comatose state it's been in for three years. There are other ways of doing this...normal ways, like going back to school, or who knows what else...but as difficult a person at really figuring out as he proves to be, I think I've finally come to understand that nothing but walking into a war zone could really do the trick; something dramatic, and worrisome, and dutiful all rolled into one.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I suppose talking about it here is supposed make me realize that he has my full blessing to do as his pleases. But frankly, I just cannot give it. Of course I am partial to the idea, but as selfish as I am for wanting his happiness, I am selfish for myself as well. Yes, I want you at my prom. Yes, I want you at my graduation. Yes, I want you to help me move into college. Yes, I want you to be able to talk me through my first all-nighter before a major test. If I didn't care about our relationship, I wouldn't want any of these things, I wouldn't care. But as you've told me not to base my choice of school on your account, you must not, absolutely cannot base this decision on me. I'm appreciative that you factor me in, but quite honestly, I just cannot handle the pressure.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;We are both so young...and already I feel like we've both failed at little pieces of life--him in a rut, me crashing before I've even left the ground. But I won't retract. I'm not sorry for what I think about this. And if this is offending, it must be a hard truth that is absolutely necessary. But beyond all else, I hope you know I love you with all my heart. And that's the reason I'm able to tell you this. Because, like I said, I know you'll be reading this. And as always, with a well thought out piece of writing, I always do my best explanation. I hope you understand.&lt;/p&gt;
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<entry>
<author>
<name></name>
<uri>http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/about.html</uri>
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<title>Wake up.</title>
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<id>tag:holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com,2009-06-24:1783644</id>
<updated>2009-06-24T00:50:02-04:00</updated>
<published>2009-06-24T00:50:02-04:00</published>
<category term="Journal Entry" scheme="http://www.blogspirit.com/ns/types#category" />
<summary>  Sometimes I draw inspiration to write from various instruments of...</summary>
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&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Sometimes I draw inspiration to write from various instruments of expression that seem to present themselves in my life. I've been at home a lot recently (duuh, it's summer break!) and I heard this song through a commercial on television--Wakin' Up To Love by Shanna Crooks. It defines everything that I've been experiencing. I don't know how else to express this, but man I don't think I've felt like this in a long time. I came home last night from my date with Myles (yeah, we've been dating for a little while now and we still schedule dates with each other...haha) and god, I just couldn't stop smiling. This whole summer, I think now that we, or I, have the time to slow down, our relationship can be more easily broken down and observed--all the things that need to be tweeked, the things that need to be kept the same. It's always great to go back to my old entries about how everything felt when we first met, all the way to that one month hiatus we took, just to see how much our relationship has evolved since we've been together. So much of ourselves have changed, and so much has evolved, but so little in our feelings and the way we communicate has. I still wake up every morning scrambling for my phone to make sure he's still there, I still get those phone calls at 8:55AM from him to let me know he's walking into work, I still get random &quot;I love you,&quot; texts, he still tells me I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and we both still love each other, even after the fire fades. Of course, that's not to say it has. But I'll tell you this: one of the best conversations we've shared in a really long time was not about our passionate evenings or&amp;nbsp;how to reach intimate levels with one another, it was about the fact that no matter what happened in our lives, we would still be best friends. Sometimes, I can't lie, it scares me to think that Myles is my best friend, but it makes everything about him so much more enjoyable, that I'm so comfortable with him that I can freely speak about my period, or picking my nose, or farting, or how pooping feels. God we're a weird couple, but there are some married couples who struggle to share these parts of their lives with their spouses. Though I would never call myself an extroverted person, he makes me feel like there is absolutely no shame in being human. And aside from all my disgusting bodily functions, I'm able to tell him my deepest, darkest secret...quite literally. Its something I was never even able to muster the strength up to tell Carlos or Winona out of fear of embarrassment, but somehow, he makes me so comfortable, I'm able to confide in him the hardest thing for me to cope with.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;He's changed me in so many ways. As much as I used to do for Carlos, I didn't do nearly half as much as I know I try to attempt for Myles. I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to make him happy. I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to comfort him. I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to pamper him and make sure he knows that I've done my absolute best to take care of him. He's been so good to me. Sometimes&amp;nbsp;I don't know how he puts up with me, but it's all give and take. I put up with a lot of him, and he does the same for me. We love each other and I'm so glad that I can trust that no matter what, I've put my trust into something profound, an investment that won't come back to bite me in the ass. And frankly, it means a lot to me that I can spend an entire day with him and still be just as in love with him as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. And by the time the 'rest of our lives' decide to roll around, we'll both be so filled with love, we may burst. That's my ultimate goal, you know...to die due to an overdose of love.&lt;/p&gt; 
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<name></name>
<uri>http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/about.html</uri>
</author>
<title>I tried to fix you.</title>
<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/archive/2009/06/20/i-tried-to-fix-you.html" />
<id>tag:holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com,2009-06-20:1782016</id>
<updated>2009-06-20T14:06:48-04:00</updated>
<published>2009-06-20T14:06:48-04:00</published>
<category term="Journal Entry" scheme="http://www.blogspirit.com/ns/types#category" />
<summary>  I do it every once in a while when I'm absolutely bored and reminiscing...</summary>
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&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I do it every once in a while when I'm absolutely bored and reminiscing about the past... I look into that stupid truthbox of mine that everyone started obsessing over at the end of my sophomore year (I can't believe it's been a whole year from then) and I think about all the stupid things that have happened since then. Now here's a name I haven't mentioned in a while: Carlos. An army boy now, he's finally figuring things out, I think. It's funny how everything's worked out between us, how our lives have comepletely diverged. But the thing of it is, no matter what happens, I always go back to those moments I think I'll always hold precious. I could never hate someone that, regardless of whether he was able to feel the same as me, allowed me to open up into a new, beautiful person. I am who I am because of the love I felt for him, and the pain he allowed me to feel. And granted, I know that in the end, my broken heart is all the thanks I ever got from him, the story somehow wouldn't feel completed if it had ended any other way.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;But man, all of these old comments...some about admiration, some about love, some about how much of a terrible person I am...some a little x-rated lol. But one, I just can't get over. No matter how much I talk myself into how grateful for the experiences I've had with Carlos, I just can't get over this: &quot;ok so u no i just wanna say thanks for finally saying to me what u really want to ... i truely appreciate it and i hope u feel better congrats... o and so u no &lt;strong&gt;i have been in the hospital for a good 3 days bc i got hit by a car&lt;/strong&gt; ... thanks for that... and im proud of u , u finally say what u feel ... i new u could congrats&quot;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;The really pathetic thing is that I can't remember if I believed what he'd said about being in the hospital. Looking back at it now, I can't believe he stooped so low. Lets be honest, this blog was written because I can't believe how stupid I was back then. It was only a year ago and look at how much I've grown. Why would I even want to involve myself with someone that disgusting? With someone who couldn't stand the idea of me moving on with my life so much that he resorted to the worst and most fake lie to try to facilitate some sort of pity by me for himself. It absolutely sickens me. What makes it worse is that now every time we speak, I know its because he misses me. Even when all this had happened, my mom told me that no matter what happened, I would always be the one who had shown him true love and that when he doesn't have that to lean on anymore, when it's just him by himself, he'll be sorry. That always happens. You give a man 80% but he sees that you can't fulfill that last 20...so chasing after that 20, he leaves the 80 and realizes that he is nothing without what he once had.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I learned that lesson this past week, in a short concise situation that was resolved last night. Of course there wasn't much drama that surrounded the whole ordeal, but it taught me to appreciate the person who really is able to give you what you need all gift wrapped and tied in a little bow. I can't change who I am. If I'm not what he wants, and if he's not what I want, I can't bend myself nor him to suit the comfort that we've grown so accustomed to. But my god, how I'm so in love...still. 11 months of turmoil that really only added up to a grand total of maybe 8-9 months felt like so much more than the seamless and beautiful 13 full months I've had this past year. As for now, I wouldn't do anything to jeoparodize that happiness. I could never be stupid enough to leave my 80 for the 20 I worked with.&lt;/p&gt; 
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<name></name>
<uri>http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/about.html</uri>
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<title>Time, my dear.</title>
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<id>tag:holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com,2009-05-31:1764754</id>
<updated>2009-05-31T23:31:57-04:00</updated>
<published>2009-05-31T23:31:57-04:00</published>
<category term="Journal Entry" scheme="http://www.blogspirit.com/ns/types#category" />
<summary>  It seems like everyone on my Facebook is moving forward with their lives,...</summary>
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&lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;It seems like everyone on my Facebook is moving forward with their lives, getting engaged, married, new family pets, new families... It's so strange to think that a girl I used to spin with my freshman year has now set her date to be married as August 1st of this year. And all the wedding pictures being posted online from various women I've become acquainted with throughout the few short years I've been on this earth. It just makes me think about my relationship with Myles and my juvenile aspirations to begin a life of love and &quot;honesty&quot; with him. But then I start to think about how quickly life has gone by; how fast the last three years of my life have been; how short time has felt with Myles in my life. I think about being&amp;nbsp;a little kid again, posing in my ballerina outfit, blowing kisses at the camera, playing on the old swing set. I always say I can't wait to leave the security of my home; I can't wait to be on my own, self-reliant, independent. It's true. I can't wait to be all by myself with no one to take care of but myself. But then what will I have? I will have nothing but a destination to look forward to. Sometimes I have to tell myself to slow down and take a look around me. One more year. My last. No matter what happens, where I go to school in the fall of 2010, where I live, how much money I make, I will always have this last year here at home with my family and the friends I hold in my arms today. I will always have these memories that I will take into the future.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;How strangely the idea of my future has changed in 5 years--how I used to think Lennon would always be the one I ran back to; how I fell head over heels for Carlos; how I now see myself in the throws of eternal love with a man still in the throws of his own boyhood. I'm no different from the girl I was in middle school, still hopelessly holding onto the idea that &quot;This one is &lt;em&gt;the one.&lt;/em&gt;&quot; And maybe this time, he is. But this does not change my track record... The only difference between then and now is that with another year under my belt in October, I will soon be old enough to see to it that my hopes become reality. Though we all know I'd never be that dumb...&lt;/p&gt; 
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<title>11:11 PM</title>
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<id>tag:holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com,2009-05-06:1751357</id>
<updated>2009-05-06T02:18:36-04:00</updated>
<published>2009-05-06T02:15:00-04:00</published>
<category term="Journal Entry" scheme="http://www.blogspirit.com/ns/types#category" />
<summary>  I can't do this anymore. I can't fight with him about the same thing; I...</summary>
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&lt;p&gt;I can't do this anymore. I can't fight with him about the same thing; I can't cry anymore.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I used to get this weird sinking feeling in my chest when I was really hurt. It happens every now and again when I'm really sad or upset about something. It's not even when I cry...not really. It's just when I'm sad. It used to happen a lot with Carlos, when I felt like situations were out of my control, like I couldn't hold on to anything no matter how desperate I felt. I feel like that now. No matter what I do, I can't control this.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I want to blame him so badly, it hurts me. I can't believe he said what he did. I don't think he realizes, in the throws of his fury, how much he really said in a three-word text message. He wished pain on me. He hoped something terrible would happen. Is this what it feels like to let something so precious slip from your fingers?...because I always felt like I threw away any promise of happiness until him. I learned to embrace the fear of falling when he came into my life...and now he's wishing pain upon me.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Is it even worth the fight anymore? I feel like throwing in the towel, surrendering to the will I know is not my own, but what can I do? I love him so much I can't put it to words, but I'm hurting so badly right now that I can't even cry. There are&amp;nbsp;no more apologies on either side--just good intentions and broken promises. And now look at where we are.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Can I find my way through this swamp?&lt;/p&gt; 
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<entry>
<author>
<name></name>
<uri>http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/about.html</uri>
</author>
<title>Have I found you, or lost you?</title>
<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/archive/2009/04/19/have-i-found-you.html" />
<id>tag:holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com,2009-04-19:1743291</id>
<updated>2009-04-19T01:00:16-04:00</updated>
<published>2009-04-19T01:00:16-04:00</published>
<category term="Journal Entry" scheme="http://www.blogspirit.com/ns/types#category" />
<summary> Strictly a venting blog. I warn that some of these points I'm about to argue...</summary>
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Strictly a venting blog. I warn that some of these points I'm about to argue may be irrational. If you read this, it'll probably be over by the time you get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just can't believe his logic. It just doesn't make sense to me. Why would he think that I wouldn't want him to come over? Literally five minutes from my house and he fucking makes a U-Turn because I said I didn't want him over. But think of it from my point of view. If he's in front of my house, wouldn't anyone think that I'd walk out to see him? I mean honestly. What the fuck! It really makes me angry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like such an inconvenience to him nowadays. Without anything to distract me anymore now that guard season is over, I feel like I'm just sitting on my hands, waiting for his schedule to free up so I can fit myself in between everything else he fucking has to do. Scratch that first statement. I'm just a convenience that just so happens to fit perfectly wherever he can throw me. Whatever...I get it because that how it was with him for me during winterguard. He's always telling me that I see him more than anyone else does. Well if that's true, he must be pretty nonexistant to everyone else in his life because I barely ever see him. And that's just seeing him; I'm not even referring to talking to him. Talking? What's talking...? You mean he actually has conversation to make with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep an ear out for passing cars on my street and every time one passes, my heart drops a little. I know it's not him, but everything in me wishes it was. I know I'll be falling asleep by myself tonight, waking up to a day of nothing but homework, and I can't say I'm not partially to blame. But goddammit. I try so fucking hard. I really do. The rational part of me says he does, too. But sometimes I just don't know if I'm cut out for this. I can't take it sometimes...being dropped off, knowing he won't be going straight home. I mean even the nights I do get him, he's not totally mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then maybe I'm not cut out for him. Maybe he needs someone that can do what he does, that can stay out till whenever they want, someone older than me. I'm too young for this anyway. And my focus is diming; I need to figure this all out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I just had an epiphany.
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<entry>
<author>
<name></name>
<uri>http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/about.html</uri>
</author>
<title>Count to ten.</title>
<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com/archive/2009/02/25/count-to-ten.html" />
<id>tag:holdingoutforahero.blogspirit.com,2009-02-25:1715984</id>
<updated>2009-02-25T02:17:14-05:00</updated>
<published>2009-02-25T02:17:14-05:00</published>
<category term="Journal Entry" scheme="http://www.blogspirit.com/ns/types#category" />
<summary> So here's the blog you wanted.  I find myself rather...upset. This...</summary>
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So here's the blog you wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself rather...upset. This happens many a night and others may find it weird, or stupid, juvenile. Well, I don't and that's just putting it blatantly. Every night, Myles and I fall asleep together on the phone and for the past two, well almost two, I've fallen asleep without him. I must admit, its getting to the point where it's really starting to bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, it sounds dumb, but to me, I can't help but become absolutely livid, and he really can't understand how upset this whole thing makes me. For god's sake, I'm sure he thinks its stupid, too. It's usually easy for me to wake up when he calls me in the middle of the night (usually between the hours of 12:30 and 3 o'clock) to finally start his sleep cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes me so angry is not that he doesn't call me to tell you the truth. I know he does, like tonight. It was one of those weird nights where maybe he'd called me during a REM cycle, meaning I'm not waking up for anything. Usually I'm a really light sleeper and sometimes even in my REM cycle, I can wake up to certain noises. I guess because I'm trying to get over all the allergies that hit me in Nashville this past weekend, I didn't wake up. Ok, whatever. What really bothers me out of this is when I call him back an hour later when I wake up realizing he's not on the phone, he doesn't answer after I call him, I don't know, maybe 5 or 6 times?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mention this to him when I he picked me up on Monday morning, but that night, I'd called him on my last sliver of battery at about 6 in the morning because I was worried about the time we'd be at school. Driving home from Tennessee, I was worried that we'd get there a little earlier than he and I had planned earlier. So I called...1, 2, 3, 4, 6? All that was going through my mind was &quot;Fuck, you know this is really going to bite him in the ass one day.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always think of really fucked up things like that. Like what if someone tried to break into my house during the middle of the night? To tell you the truth, my first instinct wouldn't be to call 911, it would be to call Myles because I'd know he's protect me. But lord knows whether or not he'd even fucking ANSWER! I mean, yeah, I know this whole painted picture is very unlikely to ever occur, but what if?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I get so angry about this whole thing, I forget how to fall back asleep on my own and I sit there for hours trying to find a wave of sleep to ride till my eyes close and I forget about how frustrated I am with him. This is the one thing that makes me feel like we're closer when we go days without seeing each other. Where normal couples I'm around get to wake up every school day knowing they have there's in class, I have to sit in my own classrooms, watch my friends greet their boyfriends good morning, how'd you sleep, and I love you, hoping that mine gets to work alright. Those moments are always made easier when I know, at the very least, he slept with me next to him somehow. And they've really a particular sting to them when I don't.
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