Higher.

My brain has forgotten how to write sentences, where to find words,
and when to use a comma. Nothing worth anything can make its way from
my brain to my hand. I can't even write poorly. This unusual
disconnect from brain to output mechanism might very well be the
complication of work related stress. Or maybe this is a byproduct of
the emotional shutdown I am forcing upon myself in an effort to
prevent heartbreak on August 1st, when he'll be gone. I should
probably embrace the opportunity to experience human emotion, but this
challenges the robotic way of living I have become accustomed to.
Control. Control. Control. Emotions signal weakness, that cannot be
had.

I can hardly look into his eyes. I can't even sit next to him.

I am attempting to reduce our relationship into something purely
physical. I can deal with that. I am used to separating mind from
body, it is routine. But it won't ever be enough.

Everyone keeps telling me that I shouldn't wait around for him. And I
don't intend to. He'll disappear into the clouds, lost halfway around
the world.

But this is what I asked for, to be in love with someone that would
never love me back. I wanted my heart to be broken so that I'd have a
new perspective. I do. I know what I want from life. I know what kind
of life I'd never want, mostly because it looks deep into my eyes
everyday and says pick me, this is the easy way.

I want the real way. The hard way and the happy way.

Someone asked me why I am working so hard right now and when I thought
about it, any decent justification escaped me. I was without an
explanation . But then a few days later, my sister said it. Your life
is laid out in front of you, you don't have to worry about a thing.
That might be true, well, it is true. And I suppose that was always my
goal, everyone's goal. Stability, isn't it secure and safe and warm
and happy? No. Screw that. That may be what I have been raised and
convinced and tricked into wanting, but it isn't what I want deep down
on the inside. And falling in love with someone who will never love me
has taught me that. Or maybe it was this boy as a person that taught
me that. It might not have anything to do with loving him or not
loving him at all.

He might be my personal savior and I don't know it and he doesn't know
it. His escape from this life might be the most wonderful thing that
has ever happened to me. Good thing I am realizing this now.