Mon rêve, tenant le premier rôle:

Les similitudes frappent... la dévotion, les visites, les tentatives de se maintenir dans l'esprit (et le coeur ?) des autres...

Il préoccupe de voir les parallèles, pour ce que si les résultats sont un même et des extrémités différentes de personne hauts avec un coeur cassé ? Bien que, naturellement, ce soit la vie. Naturellement, les possibilités présentées là-dedans sont sans fin. De l'autre côté... il y a toujours la chance qu'il obtiendra la fin de film qu'il a toujours voulue.

Pourquoi, pourquoi quand tous que je veux le film est-il fin j'obtiennent-ils simplement le rôle de support?

tomber en morceaux

I feel like I'm falling apart.

There are no simple answers, but I guess the larger issue is that there are no simple questions. That would be the rub of it, that in order to get close to the answers one must articulate the questions.

That is nearly impossible.

I don't know if I'm simply imagining things or if there really is something there. It confuses me and I don't know how to fix it or if I should just give up on hope and move on. Could I do that? And really, why should I?

It would be nice to come out on the happy end of a story of love, rather than as the friend on the sidelines who gets to smile at her friends as they find their hearts' desires and goes home wishing that someday it will be her. That oversimplifies matters to the point of parody, but it's how I feel. Even in the midst of relationship tumult and uncertainty, there is always another option for everyone else.

What about me?

I want to be loved. Instead of people coming to me and asking how they should handle their latest problem or how they should tell the girl that they love...that they love her...I want him to come to me and tell me that I'm the one he can't live without.

peut-être je suis fatigué

I miss the days when love was innocent and simple...souvenez-vous? Until a certain point in our lives we do not realize that love comes with pain, or that it doesn't follow automatically that someone will love us if we only love them. I remember the moment when "I love you" became something not so simple, when it suddenly became all-important to be loved and, for the first time, love came with fear that love would disappear.

...I crunched through the leaves on the way to class today and it made me sad. Well, not sad so much as wistful - all those leaves, raked into piles, still more falling and begging for someone to jump in them, play with them...and we all walk by unaware. I could jump in the leaves, but only at the risk of facing incredulity and mockery at the hands of my peers. What of fun, innocence, laughter? We now find entertainment in such complicated things...what ever happened to just basking in the sunlight?

Maybe I'm jaded.