An odd thing to say, and maybe not always a good thing- but, I do believe it’s true.

I have a lot of love inside me. I have a wealth of it- I have so much love to give.

I can always find someone to love. It’s why I’ve so rarely been single. Not because I NEED a boyfriend, not because I CAN’T be happy without one. But. I like having someone. It completes me, to have someone- fills a certain space in my life. I can always find someone to love.

It’s hard for me, though- to differentiate, between the person and the idea, as they say. I have a hard time holding onto something that isn’t there. I have a hard time holding onto SOMEONE. I need to have something to hold onto. I need to have somewhere to channel what I feel. And when that’s not there, that’s gone- an instinctual part of me begins looking for somewhere else to put it. I need somewhere to channel my emotions, channel my love. I do have the need for connection.

I danced with a boy tonight. He asked for my number. I didn’t give it to him, told him I’m not looking for anything; but, we sat, for a long time, and we talked. And. It threw me for a loop. It honestly threw me for a loop.

I have a man I love. But it’s hard to love something that isn’t there. It’s hard to love a person who gives themselves so little presence in my life. And I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to give myself the illusion of letting go, I don’t want to fill a void that they are meant to be in. I don’t want to lose this, I want to hold onto what I have, I want to stay in love with what I have. I don’t want to lose this boy, ever. I want him to be my world.

But. What do I do. Where do I stop; where do I draw the line? What will it take for him to stop me from walking away. What will push him to stop just saying he loves me and start acting like he cares that I’m in his life. Who’s to say he even still wants me there.

I hate that I have to question. I hate that I don’t know, but I have no way to know. I have no consistency, as much as I hope and ask for it. We fight less. We’re at peace longer. But the amount of time I spend NOT KNOWING is incredible. The amount of time I spend stuck in limbo is so much greater than before. That’s the part that’s unfair to me. The not knowing. The not knowing is impossible. And I am just becoming done with it. It’s getting to the point where I don’t care, and I HATE that. I don’t want to give up. I don’t want to not care. But there’s only so much I can take, only so much one-sidedness I can handle. There’s only so much unreciprocated emotion I can give out before I have nothing left to give. At some point I need to get something back or I’ll exhaust myself.

I don’t know what it would take to make him miss me. I don’t know that there’s anything that I can do. I’m at a loss. I can’t walk away. But.

Is it really walking away, if he’s already disappeared with everything I would be walking away from?

I miss him.

I have never left.

Maybe I am just incredibly conscious of my writing, or maybe society in general has become lazy. I’m learning that I am one of the few people I know who truly values the weight of words. There are some of us out there. Word fiends, lovers of the English language. People who truly take the time to consider what they are writing.

But I think we are becoming painfully few.

When I write a long message, and I am discussing an important, emotional, or sensitive topic, I am EXTREMELY conscious of what I type onto a page. As best I can, I say exactly what I mean, so that there is not room for misinterpretation, since tone is so difficult to put into text. I have been known to say, “I’m not trying to start a fight,” “I’m not mad as I write this,” “I honestly just want to know, I’m not accusing,” etc, when typing, because I do not want my words read with an angry edge to them. I say. What. I mean.

I’m amazed at how often I get into a fight with someone, often in a debate on a Facebook status, or in a series of messages, and I HONESTLY do not know why the person is becoming mad at me. I regularly find myself rereading what I’ve posted or sent, trying to find if I accidentally said something angry, something with inflammatory wording or a not-clear-enough joke. And I’m amazed, generally, I can’t find out where I went wrong. I can’t figure out why this person thinks that I’m trying to fight with them. Why they think that I’m mad, or being insulting, or saying anything other than exactly what I’m saying. I don’t know how I get lost in translation.

Not to sound pretentious, but…maybe because I have a bigger vocabulary and write much more carefully than most people, they get mad because they think I’m being pretentious. Which I think is just. All kinds of ironic.

I value words. I value the English language, and I enjoy using it to its fullest extent, to the best of my ability. I like pausing to think of the exact word that I’m looking for, and being able to find it. Even now, writing this, I reread a statement, then go back and change a slight part of it so that it reads more smoothly; so that it reads exactly how I want it to when it’s read.

I wish that more people spent time on their words, I wish that our society in general was more focused on our language. I think it’s a sad part of our culture to lose, the beauty of the English language. It’s what separates great linguistic authors from those who write simple but exciting books. The difference between terrific books, and terrifically written books.

Cinematography is to film what language is to writing.

I wish that higher value were placed on each, in each category; I think if people paid more attention to the beauty of the tools we’re given, the world would be a more beautiful place.

“If you are going to write, write consciously, so that what you SAY will be what you MEAN, and it will also be what other people HEAR.”

Give value to what you say.

two weeks ago tomorrow. The service is on Saturday.

I miss him. I miss him.

I can’t trust you not to leave me.