The ol' "Falling Down a Well " Dream

Few things, first of all. Thank God for Emily Parks. I would just like to say that above any of my other friends, right now, she's been the most caring and understanding person there for me. And i don't know what i'd do without her. And to Danny, Amanda, and Lori, thank you for being there to laugh at my not funny jokes. Turnquist, we are WC's. Which makes me happy. and Mattsign, you are under rated. That was just a few thank you's on my long list. Anyways.

Topic.
For centuries the butterflies that lay dormant in our stomachs have been able to flutter as vibrantly as ever with the voice of the person you "love". And for the longest time, those butterflies have woken up every time i hear her voice. Or see her. But, should it work this way? I mean she makes me feel like shit. i hear the things she says about me, and her constant unwillingness to see me. it just doesnt make sense. The butterflies might be broken.

I feel empty still. No sign of this road ending. But you know, eventually someone will be standing on it, wandering as aimlessly as i do. Thinking "he's got it all wrong, we're walking away, not TOWARDS something".

goodnite.