isn't it funny when you find old things like notes, pictures, journal entries, and you begin to miss people and wonder why you ever let things get so bad?
when CJ was giving a presentation the other day in english, i looked at him. i mean really looked at him. and i have one of those moments where you start remembering all the good times you had those years ago. and even though it was more than eighteen months previous, it nigh feels like last week. and you want to throw them that grin you used to toss back and forth, and give them the hug you used to embrace when one of you was upset, or giggle at that inside joke that made no sense to anyone but the pair of you.
but you can't. because you're strangers now. and you don't even know their favourite colour, or what they did last weekend, or about their terrible breakup any longer.
and the moment changes and now you're mourning the forsaken relationship and pondering exactly what happened for things to turn out the way they did. and shifting the blame around, and remembering what you learned from the person, and forgetting all the new people in your life that make you who you are now, rather than who you were then.
then it shifts once again. and you begin to compare all the different people you've been that were all once named, "yourself". and you pick out all the pros and cons of each character and decide you want to change again into the epitome of all the positives and wipe out all the flaws.
but you can't. because a person, the human personality, doesn't alter on command, but through experiances.
and then it all clicks. and you don't miss that person as much any more. becasue you aren't those same two people, those friends, any longer. and you flash them that awkward smile that fills the void of everything you don't know how to say. and then you move on. because you have to.

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so i get those exilerating goosebumps when he touches my hand. i can't beat down a grin when he calls my name or gestures my way. i can't hide a blush when he asks to sit beside me or invites me somewhere. and i can't help but gaze as we part and walk away.
it's a terrifying game, infatuation. it knocks down your cool composure. it boosts your fears and self-doubt. it slows your wit. it makes you feel awkward and irksome with every move you make, every word you say. but never out of place. because no matter what happens, or how disasterous you think the situation may be...you always feel at home, there beside him. that's why you can't pull yourself away. that's why you crash and burn. and that's why you keep trying.
is it strange that i talk to myself in second person almost all the time?

i'll keep running ahead of the race
to hope i put a sparkle in your eye