"I am a dreamer but when I wake, you can't break my spirit, it's my dreams you take..."

Sometimes I want to ask the people I liked at one time, the people who I had crushes on or developed feelings for if they knew what they almost had. What almost could have happened. I want to ask them "Do you know what you did to me?" I want to know what influenced them, changed them... Ask them "What the heck were you thinking?" and "Did you even KNOW?!"

All around town I see high school couples walking hand-in-hand... And there's this voice in my head that wonders what's up with that? I remember playing "house" when I was little and thinking that 20 (almost 21) was so very very old. I remember thinking, that if I wasn't married by now I'd at least have a boyfriend.

"...I surrender to the strawberry ice cream
Never ever ending
All this love..."

Curse you Disney and other media outlets for giving me unrealistic expectations about love. Where's my Knight gosh-darnit!?

I'm kind of tired of being the "model girlfriend." You know... "Gee, I wish I had a girlfriend who was like you."-type thing. I'm also tired of hearing the "You know, you'll find the right guy eventually. Just be patient. He's out there."

Well I am patient. I'm just tired of being reminded that I'm single.

And it's scary to have dreams that aren't coming true.

"Watch me strut, 'cause I'm an old pro,
I can't sing or dance but I'm the star of the show..."

My life isn't very exciting. It really isn't. I just work very hard to make it sound interesting. I don't lie, but nothing really spectacular happens. Nothing big. Just funny little things. Itty bitty crisises. I go to work. I come home. I watch TV. I eat, I sleep. I spend time with my friends.

"I know what it's like to be forgotten
Left alone with your simple dreams
But even dreams are fading fast
No one to turn to when you can't sleep at night
Waking up to another day that will soon be over..."

I mean, I write about things that happen in my day, what I saw, heard, did... But nothing is really unique about any of it. Other people eat, work, joke around and perhaps write about it all. The only difference between this blog and whatever one comes up when you click "next" on the Blogger tool bar is that if you've read this far, you probably actually know me. Maybe some of you who read only know me though comment exchanges or friends of friends. That's okay... I'm cool with that.

"These lines of lightening mean we're never alone, never alone..."

I know I'm not alone-alone. But. Well. Really, this is a different alone. Sometimes it's okay. Sometimes it's not. This is why Facebook is a curse. I see in my news feed people breaking up and getting back together. Sometimes it gets frustrating. I just want to tell them to make up their flipping mind!

I'm afraid that the world is making me cynical... I'm fighting bitterness and hopelessness. It's hard.

"...It's killing me..."
"I think you need a Doctor."

I'm looking for a hero, for someone to love, for someone to grab my hand out-of-the-blue and change my life forever... But no one is stepping up.

"Well, the war's been won. All the fights are fought
You find yourself in just the spot
It's a place where everybody's got a song to sing.
Just like the final movie scene. The prince will find his perfect queen
The hero always saves the world. The villains get what they deserve
The boy will always get the girl
When I am King"

My life is full of "somedays."

-Someday someone will see me and say "See her? That's the girl for me."
-Someday someone will watch The Notebook with me.
-Someday someone will hold me when I cry.
-Someday (like Rachel V. said) someone is going to like me the best.

There have been times I've laid awake at night thinking about the man God wants me to marry... And I wonder if that man lays awake sometimes thinking about me...

I'm just tired of this and tired of that... I don't even think I can name it... It's just. I don't know. It's a different kind of burnt-out feeling.

"And I still hold your hand in mine,
In mine when when I'm asleep."

An imaginary boyfriend isn't as cool as a real one. In all reality, internal dialogs are just conversations with yourself.

"Every so often we long to steal,
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in..."


I'm posting this gibberish and going to bed.