"I'm turning into someone that I never thought I'd have to be again."

I've noticed more patterns with my stupid heart. It always begins when the girl in question starts being nice to me. I begin falling in love. As soon as the girl says "I love you Adam", I'm hooked, even if that statement is rooted in a totally platonic, friendship-only kind of way. Then there's this giddy period of about two weeks where she is my entire world. I'm high on love, high on hoping that finally I've found what I've been looking for. And after that two weeks, I start turning mean and resentful when we aren't together. It becomes an all-consuming obsession, her face on my mind every hour of the day, keeping me from sleeping even.

I try talking this out with the girl in question, and all I end up doing is scaring her away or becoming more bitter about the whole situation. I tell her that I'm madly in love with her, and all that does is breed pity in some cases, and chases her away in others.

So. I've identified the pattern. But where's the root of the problem? Is it that I want love so badly that I fall hard and fast for any girl that shows me the slightest bit of attention? Is it that I'm looking too hard, or is it that what I'm looking for doesn't really exist? I've always wanted that fairy tale kind of love. It's the only definition I really accept.

I guess part of my problem is that deep in my heart, I truly believe that the only reason people don't find a perfect love is that they don't really look for it, that they settle for less and suffer for it. I've been looking for a long time. Four times now, I've thought I've found it. Four times, I've been dead wrong. Four times, I've torn myself to pieces worrying that I'll never find someone that's right for me that I'm right for too. Four times, my bitterness with the whole business has increased exponentially.

I am not a patient person. This might have something to do with why these situations always turn sour. As soon as I think I see something deep and real and amazing, I jump all over it and smother it. I need to learn patience. This, I think, might be the crux of the whole issue. Given the opportunity and the proper circumstances, everything else about me would make an excellent partner. Patience. Forgiveness. Understanding. These are the things I need.

I'm in love with everybody's girl

I've observed it for awhile, but this might be the first time I've put it in writing; I have a nasty habit of falling in love with my friends' girlfriends. The last two girls I've been crazy about have both been dating guys I've known for at least six or seven years. Really good friends of mine. And I still desired their women, even thought to myself that they didn't deserve the good fortune of dating these amazing girls. Maybe in some respects, I'm right. But for the most part, I just feel like a petty thief. I fucking hate it. I hate it because not only is it awful on my part to want to be with someone a good friend of mine is dating, but it makes me a terrible person because I'm silently hoping that their relationship will blow up in their faces so I have a chance. I don't want them to work out their problems. I know, it's rotten of me, right?

But at least, I'm pretty sure I'm not falling for these girls simply because my friends are dating them... I'd like to believe that it's just because we have similar tastes. I don't know. There aren't any easy answers. I fall too hard for girls all the time, and when it doesn't work out for one reason or another, I just get extremely bitter. It's terrible. I almost wish I couldn't fall in love.

Now that's a terrible thing to wish upon yourself.

In less depressing news, I did in fact get my learner's permit. So I can start practicing driving again, and hopefully have my license by the middle of September. I might even drive the van part of the way up to Wisconsin tomorrow. It'd be good practice.

S c a t t e r b r a i n e d

"I don't feel down for attachment for awhile"

...Well shucks. Doesn't get much clearer than that, does it? The message I received that included the above line didn't exactly pertain to relationships, but I think it speaks volumes. It kind of upsets me, but I need to stop worrying about it. She has her own shit to work through, and I have no business being in love with her anyway, if I am being honest with myself.

I got an incredibly awesome letter in the mail today from Sammi. It was wonderful, and probably the highlight of my day. She drew me a fantastic White Ninja comic about her experience with Sheetz' frozen green tea lattes, and it made me laugh pretty damn hard.

I am drinking beer right now. Sam Adams beer, to be precise. And sitting on my bedroom floor, because my computer is still set up on my dresser because my desk is covered in random boxes and other assorted bullshit. I should be studying the Indiana driver's manual so I have a better chance of passing my permit test tomorrow, but quite frankly, all I feel like doing is getting hammered and wallowing in self-pity and wild speculation. Both of these impulses are wrong. I haven't gotten drunk since I've been here, and I've been off of weed for at least a week and a half. And you know what? Sobriety is fucking AWESOME. And I mean that. As for the other impulse... eh. These things shouldn't be getting me down to the point that I wanna drink all alone until I pass out. Instead, maybe I should be talking with her about what's going on with me, but I get the feeling I should probably just give her space for awhile. Maybe this impulse is wrong too. Goddammit, why is everything so hard sometimes?

I started working this past Monday. Spent three days in Michigan standing around, occasionally fetching tools and taking notes while my father taught some people how to set up Cincinnati presses. And for this, I got paid $15 an hour. I feel like a thief. Maybe I should wear a ski mask when I go to pick up my paycheck. Sunday I am leaving again to spend a week between Wisconsin and Illinois, for what my dad estimates will be a 70 to 75 hour work week, inspecting presses to decide what needs repairs on them, and more importantly, how much said repairs will cost. It's going to be a long week. And I know that 30 or 35 hours of overtime sounds like a total bitch, but the fact that I'll be making $22.50 an hour that whole time eases the pain.

I'm trying to get better at playing slide guitar. I sat out on my front porch and ripped out some Bayou sounds while some little neighborhood kids danced across the street. It was beautiful, in its own warped way.

I think I'm never moving back to DuBois now. With this great job I would be a total fool to give up, surroundings that are always humming with seven different kinds of action at once, and the half-remembered familiarity of scenery I haven't seen since I was 6 years old, I honestly feel like I'm finally home. I miss people I left behind, but mostly not as much as I feel I should.

I found out today that when I was a baby my dad got a job offer in L.A. that he turned down. I could have grown up in the shadow of Los Angeles. Boy, that would have been something.

This is doing nothing to ease my mind. Time to drink another beer and put in The Shining, and hope that I fall asleep too quickly to dwell on other things.

I love being in love; I don't care what it does to me.

So, here I am. Ingalls, Indiana. It's nice. I do really like it here; there's so much to do around here it's not even funny. But at the same time, I feel like this move was really ill-timed. Ah well... Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?