I Just Got Rejected At Chuck. E. Cheese, Let's Try Again.

I’m a little sad that my old blogs from spacehey won’t transfer over, and god knows I'd rather spend my time doing literally anything else besides importing all of my old blogs onto here, so cheers to my first blog on this slightly less crummy website.

June 30th, 10:04 PM

I feel bad for telling her earlier that I didn’t want to call; she said that she missed me, and usually that’s enough for me to drop literally anything I’m doing at the moment and talk to her, but I just couldn’t do that to her today. I don’t know what about today made me so emotional, but I’m just not something I want to subject her to, today especially. I have a hard time letting people know what I want, and usually, I just go along with whatever they want from me for that day. A part of me doesn’t think I deserve to be able to say “later,” or “not right now,” even if I really need it. In my eyes, I don’t deserve to have this infinitely better girl than me be kept waiting because I just can’t compose myself for even an hour. If I can do anything for this girl, it’s at least to give her what she wants.

Putting my self-induced pragmatism aside, have you played Chapter 5 of Deltarune? Hilariously bad setup, yes, I know, but it's important. I only want to talk about what Noelle said, the part about just letting her life go past her eyes, and wanting to do something crazy. That’s the part that really stuck with me for the chapter. I want to do something I’d never think of doing, but it’s something entirely possible. My ideas of ‘crazy’ are fake borders and limitations I put on myself to prevent me from doing what I really want to do. I don’t want to be viewing my life and do nothing to change it into the way I want it to be. I want to leave. I want to throw my phone on the ground, take the keys to the truck, and drive to another state where I’ll have no gas, food, money, or way of communication. It’s not a good idea at all, but it’s something to remind myself that I’m not this rotting fucking corpse doomed to bear witness to the destruction of myself. It’s hard to remember that there are seven days within a week when it’s not a week of school.

Sorry for such a short blog; usually, it would be longer, but if I tried writing everything I felt right now, the words would overlap each other.