just pretend this all makes sense, its late.

Yet another sleepless night for me. Maybe not though, I guess the night isn’t quite over. Though its moving quickly towards morning and Mr. Sandman still escapes me.

I’ll be frank with you (you can still be you though), I’ve spent most of the past 2 hours crying. Whoever said that long distance relationships are hard is being polite. They are  actually damn near impossible. Not quite, but pretty close.

So here I sit alone in my bed. With only the light from the screen for sight, trying to hide my tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes…from myself? I don’t know. Maybe hiding from the world now. I managed to find his shirt and pull it on, wishing more than anything that it still smelled like him. That I could imagine for a second that he was here with me. Just holding me when I start crying again.

But when I open my eyes I’m still by myself. Balled up Kleenex in my hand and Relient K softly playing in my ear. Trying to calm myself down so I can sleep, and dream of a happier day. A day when everything is right in my world again. Not messed up and confusing. Not a world where you realize that nobody and nothing is actually perfect. And no matter how hard you try, that’s not going to change.

Ignorance really is bliss. I would rather not know how it really is and be happy. Than see how horrible love can be and be miserable. But, alas, we can’t unknow what we’ve come to realize. Which is that I may be unhappy now, and we may not be perfect. But I’d rather be with him than be alone again and supremely unhappy because I’ve love and lost.

What is love? (baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me. No more…) But seriously, what is love? I don’t think it can be defined. I think its more than just a feeling. Love is a part of you. And it connects you to the one person that loves you back. Love is unconditional. and patient. and distance doesn’t effect it. It’s a part of you. And a part of them. And one day, its connected. And you realize that with them is where you’ve belonged, and everything feels right. Not perfect. And not happy all the time. Anyone that tells you that perfect relationships exist is lying to you. They take work, and commitment. And time. 

But for now I’m cried out. And at the point of exhaustion where you feel disconnected from your hands. And I’m having trouble typing. So I guess I’ll try this “sleep” thing those new age hipsters have been talking about.