daydreamingfool
I am shallow, but I'm kind. I want a good looking man that makes me want to jump his bones all the time, but I also want someone that I can treat well and take care of when they are sick. I want someone I admire and that makes me want to be a better person. But I still want hot. I want passion.
Buffalo Wild Wings is where we first met. But I couldn't take my eyes of you, even though you didn't notice me. Fate led us to each other, as we left at the same time, and I wouldn't have changed a thing. I never knew my life would change eating wings.
'If only I had a boyfriend' seems to be a common sentiment among my mind since I turned 26. I want desperately to get married and have a family, so finding someone to date seems to be of great importance. But then, it also is great burden, to cut out time, get to know someone.
It is pressing, the idea of time. How fast it goes, and how much one has to accomplish in such a short life span. Goals, ambitions, the drive to succeed. Yet life is so short, and so unexpected. How can we overcome something we have no control over?
I am a believer. Or at least I once was. I believed I could be better than best, and stronger than strong. Failing tore that down a bit. So am I still a believer? Because I feel like my walls have been ripped down by an ugly monster forcing me to run away from what I've always believed. So how can I be?
The sentiment of a relationship is quite lovely. But I find it completely terrifying. Opening yourself up to someone, making yourself 100% vulnerable, with 0% guarantee it is going to work out and you won't get hurt? No thanks. Yes, a lovely sentiment, but not a realistic expectation.
On the sill it sat. Waiting. Looking for God. Waiting for God. Waiting for life to start. On the sill it sat. Looking at what life held for it. Wondering how long that life would be. If more life would start because of it. On the sill it sat. Looking for something to live for, to chase. Something to give it meaning.
The bourbon on my tongue stung, and burned as it slipped down my throat. It took me a second, but then it started to warm my insides and I liked the way it felt. I took another swig from the bottle, and slowly understood how alcoholics were born. It was no different than drinking black coffee.
I was tracking the package online, and found that it was impossible to locate the book I bought for my sister. A mental panic started inside me. Why isn't it here? Why can't I find the tracking code? I don't understand; this book is important. She wanted it so bad. She was going to be so happy. Technology sucks. They say
Taking trenches with us in everyday life is no way to live. We cannot hide from the real world's brutality and then move on. If so, we'd all be cowards. We'd all have to face more than just fear. But our own fear
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