So, last night, Date Girl and I drove out to Angeles Crest, found a dark spot (filled with many other people), laid out on the hood of my car, and watched the Perseids while holding hands.
I have no words to describe how wondrous and special this is turning out to be. I'm terribly afraid everything is going to go all kerflooey soon, just because it always seems like that's how my luck goes. I have to keep reminding myself that the past is not a reliable predictor of the future, especially in matters like this.
I have no words to describe how wondrous and special this is turning out to be. I'm terribly afraid everything is going to go all kerflooey soon, just because it always seems like that's how my luck goes.
At some point in the future, no matter if or how or when things go kerflooey, you will be able to look back and know that you had this magic night.
I have to keep reminding myself that the past is not a reliable predictor of the future, especially in matters like this.
Oh, the past is a perfect predictor of the future, provided you keep living in the past an not move on. Yours truly being a prime example.
you will be able to look back and know that you had this magic night.
That's the other thing I have to keep reminding myself. And it's not the only thing that's been more than a little magical over the last two weeks.
It's not always easy for me to just let things be, but I'm trying, and it seems to be working, and I am being surprised and delighted frequently.
Oh, the past is a perfect predictor of the future, provided you keep living in the past an not move on. Yours truly being a prime example.
Seriously loving you right now, Scola.
Oh, the past is a perfect predictor of the future, provided you keep living in the past an not move on. Yours truly being a prime example.
I think I need to write this on my wall. Or the insides of my eyelids.
I think I need to write this on my wall. Or the insides of my eyelids.
Or on my bathroom mirror.
As a desktop for my home machine.
TOTALLY.
{{{Scola}}}
Here's to better days, for all of us that could use some.
OK, now I feel a bit better about rejecting someone's story so harshly. But it was dreck absolutely. Maybe I read these things because I'm the only one who'll bring the hammer down?
Oh, the past is a perfect predictor of the future, provided you keep living in the past an not move on. Yours truly being a prime example.
Continuing to live in the past makes sense on one level, because at least it's a known factor. Even if it's shitty upon shitty, it's familiar. Every crap-ass relationship I had prior to this one is a testament to that.
t edit
Dysfunction = "home," to me, for a long goddamn time. And even though it was nightmarish, it was still home.
Moving on? Is fucking HARD. And scary. It's unfamiliar and unknown, and that? Sucks.
So having disparaging thoughts about oneself for being slow with the moving on is unfair to oneself. That shit is hard.
