damn

its happened again. im just sitting here, minding my own business, and this feeling of nostalgia drowns me in its merciless waters, and im thinking about exbf again.

damn. in san francisco, i suppress all of my memories of him, me, and matt hanging out at pier 39. the last time we are up there, i sit on the steps and write in my journal, looking out at alcatraz, while he runs after the rugrat. i do not even remember where we stay then, but i do remember his beautiful smile and how he used it when i get too anxious about the stupidest things.

hes married now, i know. hes married to someone who is a lucky bitch, and i hope she realizes it. im tempted to send him a little note to let him know im thinking of him...but i dont want to think of him. i am sick of it, i tell you, sick to death of everything about him.

im going to watch match point tonite with anapa and debbie downer. this should be good; ive always enjoyed woody allen, but i can only take him in doses. before that, though, dines and i are meeting for coffee. we have lots to talk about, especially since her albatross is coming in tonite. i know she will rekindle whatever they started last year. he disgusts me, but im not the one fucking him.

i miss being in san francisco. i hate it here, but my family and my ties are here for now. until i am able to flee, im just doing time, living each day as if it were my last, but learning from each day as if ill live forever. i have to listen more to my heart and follow its beat.