Danger in words.

There is a danger, the way I see it, in writing.


Regardless, people read into what you write. And you'd kind of like to hope that they do.

I want them to think.

But, what you don't want them to think is something that's not true.

I am in no way in love with my ex-boyfriend. Any of them.

There is an absence of fear that comes with my being open. i could list the guys I've dated and with their names come up with 5 genuine compliments about them. I could list 2 things I enjoyed doing with them. And 1 quality I will probably not find in someone else. But at the end of the day there is a truth: it didn't work for a reason.

Some reasons are hard to find. Some not so much. Some are so exceedingly obvious that if you look at them too closely-- you will be ashamed of yourself for ever making your heart vulnerable even for a moment to that person. Or worse.

I'm hungry. Sitting in my hotel room wanting a microwaved potato and some cottage cheese with sliced tomatoes with a little salt. Yum.