This will be the life of me...

"This should be the start of many things. This should be your breath next to me. This should be the end of a chapter, and the start of another. This will be life of me..."

I can't help but imagine she dreams of living near the ocean. I'm sure that's what it is, dreams of life, or something like it. I'm sure there is something there,at least there was something there. I'm sure now that it is gone.

I often misplace my thoughts, I know this. I ramble. This being a perfect example of the latter of my flaws. I stutter when I am nervous. I scratch or rub the posterior region of my head when I am uncomfortable. To many peoples surprise, this happens anytime I am speaking in public. Alas, here I am, a singer. Could I be any more masochistic?   That would be if I had been removed from myself, and not doing it to myself. I wonder what that would be called? In the end I believe I justify this stupidity by simple balance. My love for music and the search for expressionism out-weighs my fear of speaking in public. 

I'm sure at this point my entry makes absolutely no sense. The point is, it is not supposed to. This is me, writing down my thoughts as they occur. For the first time I am trying not to be infringed by filters, or do's, or don'ts. I am uninhibited. I believe it is somewhat serendipitous how I have come to this point in my life. Moving to Wichita, going to school, meeting Lauren, playing music, learning love. Meeting Sally. Green sweaters always seemed to remind me of a walking tree.Tragic, as my mother would describe it. However, never have I ever desired more to be in the shade of a tree. No matter how brief. No matter how sincere. Just to be in that shade. The tree was, at the time, a stranger. Now, a friend is what I see. I'm sure I will always see more. I try not to think of the "You need me, less than I need you" phrase, but that is what comes to mind. I'm sure we have all faced that at one point in our lives.Unrequited love. To those who haven't, I am actually sorry. It is such a pleasure to feel something so grand, even if it is unanswered. The capacity of the heart is truly astounding.

The truth is, this IS the start of a new chapter. However, the book has changed. I am no longer reading, I am writing. So many things changed on the shores of Mexico for me. My lips have not graced another pair since my departure. Both from US soil and my last relationship. For the first time, I wish to be alone. Not in a sad, "pity me" fashion; but as an opportunity to rediscover the parts of me I used to cherish. To truly learn from my mistakes. Like every time I should have taken shade, every time I should have said... something.

On a similar side of brightness, I know what I will be naming this chapter...

"The life of me"