away from the sun that shines

Every weekend I go home is like the last weekend I go home. Its like hitting yourself on the head with a hammer, saying "what the hell?!? That hurt!" and then convincing yourself it won't hurt next time, only to repeat the retarded pattern. Isn't that the definition of insanity; doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome? I think I am insane most of the time. For example, I heard a song by 3 Doors down in the mall the other day, and with an extraordinarily painful squeeze, my heart yelled "SEAN!!" all the way up to my brain. And now I've searched it, (the internet is the shiznit) and only slightly illegally downloaded the song from one of my fellow dorm-mates. Its now playing on repeat in my itunes, and I keep expecting not to think about Sean if I listen to it enough. But alas, stupid childish crushes continue to plague my happiness.

I miss the quiet contemplation that used to be my day. No noise but the whirring of poetic and fantastical thoughts creating themself outside my window, no matter what time of day. But now again I'm sucked down into the tragedy of friendship, that cruel torture that is closeness. All boundaries broken and still I feel no exhilaration, because it is forced, not easy anymore. All decisions, all manner of footsteps have to be performed around those people that depend on me, and I'm suddenly not allowed to stray on my own path, in pursuit of everything worth pursuing, but instead twisted by guilty conscience and guilty words to swerve around my own road, windshield wipers off and the music far too loud.

Is it human nature to take good and cast it aside, wanting so much better? These ideals are what crush me, and lead me to abandon lives and people, insisting at fate with a vengeance that, no, this cannot be my life, but some sort of greener pastures are just over the next week. I reach the blossomed tops of hills and turn around, looking for a more challenging mountain to climb. With love I am the worst sort of cantidate. The love I have now should suffice, but my soul aches for something else, something more pure, more satisfying, deeper somehow. He is amazing, and the sight of him makes the music in my head resound with less force, he calms my soul, but do I really want a man that doesn't fight his battles, puts mingling with middle schoolers (on some game that will not ever affect his life other than keeping him from living it) above paying attention to me, only wants to hang out with me "sometimes", and is completely tactless? Maybe it is the fact that I love him despite these shortcomings that makes it suffice. However countless better cantidates, both fictional and real, plague every feeling about him I have, convincing me it isn't enough. God im rambling.