Romanticism and Decisions

Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote in the Romantic Period about the Puritan Period. I was very much aware of Romanticist ideals. Being very much conflicted with how I incorporate the emotional extremes and reckless abandon into my life, I will not stand to give up the luxury of reason and logic. Mr. Longo asked if anyone had to make an important decision recently, in an attempt to give an example of the reasoning vs. impulse response. Hurriedly, I raised my hand. The moment returned rushing and quiet. Those seven important syllables came back to perch upon my lips. Of course, there was more than those seven, but the only ones he heard. The fear and trembling doubt collapsed over me in a movie version of my choice. It was the perfect example of logic vs. being swept up in the beautiful ideals of passionate Romanticism. Longing so painful, so grating and drawn out, finally eased and the vision of a perfect sidewalk in June. And yet, apprehension, hesitation, fear. I wanted to give everything, but logic made that sudden positive/negative chart. "Wrong place," glared the headline. "There will always be time," said the sub-header. The only two whims of logic, and I spat out the most important words of my life. "Would you like to share?" Asked Mr. Longo.

"Nope." And he moved on.

Notes I Wrote

This is my journal entry describing the fear of what will happen after he stopped loving me. It is undated, but was written sometime after October 13th, 2008.

I fear that when there is no more love and awkward interactions and memory remains, he will leave with indifference, reducing me to a good girl and a good fuck and I will go about with my pain and heart broken love for what could have been no more. How he will maybe move on, and I will run to Matt in spite. I could not bear in my soul to hurt one in efforts to hurt the other.

P.S. At this point I was pretty certain I was going to fuck Dave. "Never the time and place and lover all together," to quote. "Run to Matt," meant to publicly associate my grieving self with Matt so that Dave would be jealous. However, I knew I couldn't do that because it could potentially undermine his relationship, and I would never have intentionally subjected another girl to my sad fate.

Notes I Wrote

This is my journal entry that describes my dissatisfaction with my relationship with JoeKat entitled "She's no Baribie™" and, remarking on how devious I had been, I now planned to be. It is dated Sunday, September 28th, 2008.

My mom wants a picture of us, and I think she's going to get another circumstantial accident. Or nothing at all. There's nothing of Joe, but he's a fuck up and fucked me up. Too goddamn awkward to kiss me in public. Dick. Made me feel like a common whore. It's because I'll actually FUCK You! That's why I'm scared. Because I don't want to wait and I won't regret you.

P.S. "Fucked me up" is referencing when he told me he loved me, then took it back less than 24 hours later. Tomorrow will be the last reminiscent day.