Everything Happens Here.

After a rather uneventful evening, I decided to call it a night.
I got in my car, turned on the heat, and without thinking, I put on my favorite song as of late.
The Birth And Death of a Day by Explosions in the Sky.
Perfect.
There is no word to describe to what happened to me.
It all forced everything down my throat.
It pulled everything from the back of my mind to front and center.
I had to pullover.
Coincidentally, I pulled over where everything I had done in life mattered.
It was the first place that after staying out past curfew, I sat and a girl fell asleep in my lap only to wake up to kiss me.
It was where I used to tell my parents I'd be if I wanted to go out walking.
It was where I decided who I'd become.
It was where I decided I would end my friendship with more than 7 people.
It was where I watched a thunderstorm with no rain with a girl who tries to keep in touch every now and then.
It was just where.

I realized how big the universe is.
I realized how much it encompasses.
I realized how I'd never see a quarter of anything it had to offer.
I even realized how I haven't even left the country.

It's kind of weird, you know?
How big the Earth is, but once you measure it against the universe it becomes nothing.
The place we're born into. The place we're buried in.
Everything.
Everything happens here.

These Quiet Nights With You.

It happened the night of graduation.
I had went out to eat with family, then I went to a party.
I told myself it was now or never.
I walked away from the crowd, sat on the curb, and called her.
She didn't say anything at first other than "Hi, we just got back from grocery shopping."
I almost couldn't say it, despite the fact she knew something was going to happen (and not for the better).
I think one of the reasons that lead me to do it was a fear of me being the one left.
It's typically how it goes for me. I don't mean to sound like a sob story, but I never seem to notice anythings wrong until after it's all done and I evaluate what happened.

I had to walk home after the party.
It was about 1 in the morning and I passed my friend's house on the walk.
I called him as I kept walking and told him what happened.
I told him I did it but it didn't feel better. If anything, it felt worse.
He's still my friend. He's got his own problems to work out, but he's still my friend.

I remember running every few minutes down the blocks for whatever reason.
I wasn't drunk and I wasn't high, though I'm sure (in my efforts) a person might assume I was.

I had debating ending the relationship for a while, but I think that was a mistake.
And though people tried to make me feel better about the decision, I don't think they understand the kind of relationship I had with her. Isn't that important to know before giving feedback? But that's just friends being friends.
I think if anything, we evened each other out.
Isn't that what a relationship should do? Make both people involved calm and collected and share the same feelings for a good portion of the time.
But I guess towards the end, if I wasn't the one to leave, she'd have been the one to leave me cause I was starting to take on a new persona, the one I have now.

Where I Show You In Words What I Cannot Display.

She looks great, by the way.
It clearly hit her from the start of the year, but I think she's feeling better now.
She wore a bow in her hair at the show and it kind of reminded me of the feeling I got
when she wore an outfit that I liked that she owned.
She didn't know that I had any particular favorites. I didn't want her to think that I wanted her to wear those outfits every time we were together.
I still have everything she ever gave me. I could never bring myself to get rid of it.
I only got rid of a picture of her I had when a girl came over.
The girl sitting on my bed asked what it was and I shrugged it off as I pulled it from the wall all the while knowing I'd regret it later after she left.
I didn't do anything with that girl that night. We held hands and sat against our friend's car. It didn't feel right.
Have you ever held hands with a person and it didn't feel right? Pull away if it doesn't.
I think everything I did before the summer had a lot to do with who I was with.
But I don't want it to sound like it's not my fault, because it is. The blame falls squarely on my shoulders.
Even in the summer I think I thought I was happy.
I can only describe it as getting hit so hard and quickly that the shock of the blow hinders any pain that one might feel. It just took a while to sink in.

I Don't Know If That Makes Me Happy Or Sad.

It's kind of funny how sure I was.
It had been months and we'd spoken here and there, just keeping up with each other.
Did I notice any sort of change on her part? Kind of, but not enough for me to really pick up on the trouble.
She's done. She doesn't like to think about me anymore. She doesn't want to talk to me if it's just shooting the breeze.
She wants there to be a reason for us to talk.
But isn't me just wanting to talk enough of a reason?
All the things that go into making a conversation (worthwhile or not).
I didn't know any of this until I saw her recently.
I was even too shy to say hi. Isn't that weird?
You know a person inside and out.
Secrets, things that make her laugh, things that make her annoyed, things that make her cry, etc.
I was put to the list of things she needs space from.
I was struck at the dichotomy of who I'd been to who I am now.
I started analyzing why I haven't been happy.
It boiled down to her, essentially.
With everything I've seen since then, ripping at my skin like a bird trying to perch on a twig.
The strange truth is she's always been right.
It seems to be a tendency of mine to ignore anything that is logical when I'm in a moment, for however long that moment lasts.
Would I be happier if I was with her still?
I haven't really noticed anyone worth while all year since we stopped talking.
I know I will, cause that's just life but, is it so out of the ordinary that I'm convinced she's the most perfect person for me?
She's the last one I was with, that counts for something.
I don't know if that makes me happy or sad.