[morning fog]

getting in at 6am, from work, has a way of affecting your whole day. throwing off your sleep schedule, making you forget what day it even is. but the messed up hours, plus last week's raise, should make for a sweet paycheck. at least that's what i'm telling myself in an effort to keep the thought of an 18 hour work day from making me too sad.

i don't think it's so much a matter of only having room for so many people in your life at one time. i think it's more the pushing, the pulling, the wearing down, the attempts at eroding, that explains the change. someone once pointed out to me that sometimes, no matter how hard it is to see or accept, some people just aren't meant to be friends. a simple thought. a harsher reality. but maybe it just comes down to that.

when i see myself as getting by, and you see me as something that just isn't working. something that you forever feel the need to change, correct, fix, belittle. sometimes it's just hard. hard when there's no reason for it to be. always the effort vs. the choice. always one person getting hurt.

no matter how many times you enter and exit my life i'm always left feeling like it should be different. good, bad, i'm never sure. but different.