Of the mess you left when you went away....

I've been feeling extremely unraveled today. It's been an Alanis Morissette and Garden State kind of day. Jagged Little Pill was such an amazing album. I just feel a need to run. A need to escape. I need to get away from myself for awhile.

I was talking to one of my best friends today, telling her how I haven't felt loneliness like this in a long time. For the first time in I don't know how long I want to open up to someone. It feels so strange feeling like I'm ready to let someone else in. I don't remember what it feels like to want to give part of myself away. All I know is I want to feel loved again, and want to love again. Life feels so empty and pointless without it.

I'd love nothing more than to nuzzle into the crook of his arm, sweetly kiss his ear-lobe like he likes and just breath him in...

Oh the messes we make. 

Cool Night Air

Driving home from work tonight I left the windows down. There had been a light mist of rain throughout the evening so the air smelt damp, and had a crisp chill that circled my bare shoulders and grazed my ears. This place has always been home. I know the roads like the lines in my grandmothers hands. I have memorized faces, can recognize voices like dreams from my childhood. This place is my comfort, and it's been my sanity for as long as I can remember.

I am beginning to feel like the arms that once rocked me, and kept me safe are now the arms that are strangling the life out of me. I find it hard to breathe here, I find it hard to grow.

I want new roads, new voices, new faces, new landscape.

I really want to start over somewhere. I feel like I need a new beginning. I need a new start. The past gripes my arms like vines, controlling every move I make, all meticulously picked words in every carefully selected phrase. I can dream of buying an old jeep, and moving where the air is dry and cactus's thrive in the heat. Or dream of owning a little used bookstore on a boardwalk where my soundtrack is seagulls and you can taste salt in the air. I can picture me freckled from the sun, hair damp and curly. Evelyn dancing in the sand and gawking at the starfish.

I need an escape. I just can't keep spinning my wheels here. The longer I stay, the harder it is for me to get out.