All of a sudden, I don't feel so excited (even subduedly excited) about going to Columbia and studying poetry. I feel like a broken record, saying it over and over again to people, friends, when they've asked me. I feel foolish when they get excited, visibly more excited than me.
I can't shake this feeling like I'm making a mistake. Not that it feels wrong, but it doesn't (yet?) sit right?
Maybe I'll feel better in the morning.
Why the fuck do I fidget all the time anywhere, everywhere, no matter how great/bad things turn out.
It's like I only want to be unhappy, and is a terrible realization to have when you're down, insomniac-ridden, and of course, lonely.
I don't necessarily want to go back to SF (it would no longer be the same, remember?). Where am I supposed to be? Go? What am I supposed to be doing? I feel so worthless and wasteful.
I need someone to hold me (it's been one week since someone has just touched my body, not necessarily in a sexual way, but just in a human connection way which doesn't sound so bad, but is for me since my body feels like it's in withdrawal from friends and the loved one). I need to hear that you believe in me, that I am good, this is worthwhile, that I didn't make some unwritten mistake.
I wish I could settle. I don't have commitment issues; I have settlement issues. I fidget, not run. I do not know how to choose, nor how to stay.
It is a wretched thing. I want to feel the tug between, to know that I am not driftwood in the murky water. Part the fog. Find me. Teach me what is meant by dignity.
Unbind your own tethers, love me.
