Chapter Thirteen: Long Way Down

I used to be a huge Goo Goo Dolls fan, and by such I mean I liked maybe 4 of their songs, but listened to those 4 songs religiously. This was before Iris, I think.

That's irrelevant though.

Yesterday, it was recommended to me that I start another blog. A secret blog, one where I could keep things I didn't want other people to know. Oddly enough, this wasn't the first time I've been told this. I've decided against it. Secrets only lead to complications, hurt feelings, and just all around, well, crappiness.

I like to vent, I vent quite frequently, but I find that venting to the people that are not involved is somewhat counter productive, and I usually regret it immediately afterward.

So here it is, me venting.

I miss being a teenager, in the worst way. Don't get me wrong, I love my life, in every aspect. Sure there are things that I would have done differently, wouldn't have done at all, or definitely would have loved to have tried. But I'm happy.

I miss wandering aimlessly for hours upon hours. I miss talking about absolutely nothing at all. I miss that feeling, when you first meet someone, and you really like them, but you don't know what to do about it, and they sort of brush by you, just barely touching you, and your heart skips a beat. Okay, that last one was a little specific, but I miss it none the less. I miss how everything was so life-altering. I miss forever lasting a week.

Thinking about it, I'm pretty sure I already wrote chapter about missing things.

Let's get back on track.

There's a sense of adventure missing from my life. I've fallen into a routine. No surprises (except for hospital visits and fire alarms). There is a lack of excitement, and passion. I used to look forward to doing things, experiencing things, seeing new people, new places. Now "new" makes me somewhat uncomfortable. Now I look forward to the weekend, and the weekend is often over before it begins, and I find myself waiting for the next one.

I've been about to walk the Humber Trail "this weekend" for the last month and a half. I have yet to actually go out and do it. There's always some reason not to, more often than not, my own laziness is to blame. I'm not even sure why I've designated this a weekend activity. I'm just as able to walk the trail any given day of the week.

I went to see Nine Inch Nails last year, and I absolutely loved the show, they were awesome, as usual, however that excitement, that giddy-happy-hyper "oh my God, oh my God, oh my God" feeling wasn't there. And that saddens me. It makes me wonder if I've maybe strayed from who I am a little too much. All I really wanted to do was go to bed.

I miss my guitar. Don't worry, I'll be home soon.