3.22 journal

I’m sad. Not so sad that I feel as though the world is ending and I can sense the illusion of a gaping hole in my stomach. I’m just a simple, moderate type of sad—the type of sad which depletes my appetite and drains my ability to focus, but only for a fixed amount of time. I assume this whole thing will blow over in a week or so.

But why am I sad? Unfortunately, it’s because of a boy. It’s a predicament as old as time and this boy in particular is special. Though it seems we might be at the end of our journey, he is kind and patient and understanding in ways rarely grasped by the male psyche. This is why I know, when I sent one ignored text yesterday, and received no follow-ups to hang out today (something mentioned in passing days ago) that something is wrong.

To be fair, this has been an issue for weeks, and while I’m not completely innocent in the matter, it seems our timelines have failed to align: I told myself I’d try harder in our relationship, and he simultaneously happened to try less. The funniest part is (and I’m not trying to sound annoying) four other men have messaged me today, and I’ve ignored all of them just to be ignored myself.