That’s the first line of a song I’ve been listening to daily for the past two weeks. Just realized why I’ve been doing that though. Of course I find it hard to trust someone, or anyone. But the song gets better as it goes on. “Unbreakable by Jamie Scott” the name says it all and I can only hope it relates as much as I think it does.

What doesn’t make sense is what’s my writing mojo up and doing 3 am on a cold April night. I should be well cuddled under my love blanket, it’s all red and fluffy and hugs me like I haven’t been hugged in a while.

I was watching Sex & the City, almost done with the last season where all the good things happen. Mr. Big pleading after Carrie trying to express his love on an empty street while she shoo’s him away and elopes to Paris with the artist who ended up buying her Diamonds and shit, because she was so damn sick of New York and needed amazing things to happen. She needed life to happen, she needed to move on. She made the right choice. Paris with the artist. But in the middle of the crowd with the Diamonds around her neckline, in that foreign land when it got most noisy she realized that this hasn’t made her any happier. She missed home.

Coming to, I need to move on. (Yes everything has to be about me. Jk.) How long am I going to be hung up on worlds most toxic relationship ever with a pinch of insanity, destruction and narcissism on the side. At this point everybody but me can clearly see how wrong my choices were. Whether it be to be with someone or not. I know I’m way too much in love with the memories and have been cherishing the past like the best of the years has been done. But with my illness, there was always more than what met the eye. I’ve always known this but I hated to believe he could be what he is. It’s been 8 months and 12 days since I’ve overcome my illness, as I’d like to refer to it from now on. Though the wake prolonged.

I felt like texting someone. Not jut someone, well he’s special. In a way. Since he’s been around far longer than I expected and he’s been a good friend even though a little bit of a Pig. He’s been somewhat good to me. And since I no longer do the texting thing anymore or even barely replying to any texts these days. I needed to text him. But I wasn’t sure if I should. So I took out a piece of paper, took a pen and closed my eyes. Wrote on it to go for it or to not.  Tore them apart, still eyes closed, folded them and threw them on the other side of my bed. And with eyes closed still, I picked one. Opened my eyes and I don’t know if it’s the most reliable source but it was the paper that said Go for it. And since I picked it up blindly I’d like to believe it was the universe and if it backfires I can always blame the universe. I know I know, I’m 23 and should be able to make better solid prompt decisions. But I can’t. My guts are fucked up. So what if he doesn’t reply? That’s okay. I mean my life has always been about taking chances and being disappointed half of the time. What’s the worst that could happen? No reply? fine. Can live with that. But yay he did reply. Wow I sound like a child. You’d think 23 would make someone a little mature but no. My instincts refuse to.

So yeah Mr. Big, I’m hoping he could be something like it. I mean he probably won’t but I’ve gotta start hoping again. Start thinking that the world isn’t full of monsters and stop being so cynical. And stop being so afraid because whenever I think it’ll break me, it definitely does. Maybe this will only leave a crack and I can glue it back and decorate the crack and still look fab. Because I’ve gotta.