Vanity Plate - Spotted in morning traffic. This immediately made me think of A Christmas Story. You know the part. It’s official - Christmas thoughts are taking over.
But I’m allowing myself to be highly pissed off about the fact that the 3 glorious days off I’ve been looking forward to for the past month (Wed - Thurs of NEXT week) have been taken away from me.
One of my bosses (nice or not-so-nice? take a wild guess), thinks we all should be here. Do I have something specifically to do? No. Am I so angry I could cry? Yes.
Wednesday is my birthday and I will not be here.
I was so bored this morning sitting in traffic I started listening to Christmas music.
The closer we get, the more I love him and the more afraid I become that it will all end and/or he will hurt me. The more I love him, the more I worry.
The closer we get, the more he loves me and the more seemingly confident he becomes. The more he loves me, the less he worries.
I wish I was that way instead.
I’ve also found this on various occasions through my own experiences but more often than not, experiences of my innately passionate friends. I’ve found that women are insecure creatures, there are so little things that our hearts can originally stand; there’s so much room to grow when it comes to us. But men, they seem born ready for heartbreak. Even they let their guards down as they fall deeper into love, when that love is over, they manage to stay alive and move on somehow. But for women, it seems as if that phrase will never actually apply; because I’ve found that we don’t actually move on. We may live functionally, but we never move on from pain because we let that heartbreak eventually become part of who we are and we change into our masked selves, our jaded selves, but most importantly, we adapt into our realistic selves. So what happens to the fairytales eventually? Well, there’s never been a time where this phrase could be more fitting, they’re simply gone with the wind.
Via Blue Sky Holiday
The closer we get, the more I love him and the more afraid I become that it will all end and/or he will hurt me. The more I love him, the more I worry.
The closer we get, the more he loves me and the more seemingly confident he becomes. The more he loves me, the less he worries.
I wish I was that way instead.
Above all, I believe in creating your own happiness. I am a twenty-something optimistic, hopeless romantic who's a tad bit cynical and a little overly sentimental. Yes, you can be all of those things at once.
Thoughts? Share 'em.
My wrinkly shar-pei is my rock.
"My little dog, a heartbeat at my feet."
-Edith Wharton
And the newest addition, Ms. Harlow face.
Use this space to add whatever you want, or you can remove it altogether
