I know it's been a while. A long long while as a matter of fact. But we all know what happens to the plethora of time that I used to have when this time of year comes rolling around. Softball is amazing. Anywhere from two to four hours a day I spend working to the bone all for this personal and liberating satisfaction. I'm starting to enjoy running? It's really the only time I have to think. Somewhere between the stomach cramps and burning hamstrings, (which are really starting to become a problem) I find time to analyse my day and whatever seems to be happening at the time. If it's at all possible, I think Adolf is starting to gain some respect for me? She's realizing I'm not the same kid I was in seventh grade and that I deserve a second chance. But enough about that shit...
This weekend I took some time to myself. I love my softball girls, but I've been spending so much time with them that I feel like maybe I've been neglecting my duties to my best friends. I'm really happy that I got to spend some time with Morrisville. I learned that one of the few people I've believed to be completely honest with me since the day I met them, lied to me. I was fine with the fact that she chose to do what she did, that's her decision. But you didn't want to tell me because you didn't know what I'd think. That's what hurts the most. I thought you'd know better than to think of me as judgemental. I feel like we're playing games with our friendship and even though you're not obliged to tell me everything, I feel betrayed. For the first time in my life, you hurt me.
Today I caught up on some much needed r and r with Anna Wintour. It's been so long since we've extended our relationship past the phone calls, text messages, and Facebook chats that I sort of forgot how much I love her personality that only shines through in person. I never thought I'd enjoy drifting through the bitter air of Youngstown as much as I did today. Her stories make me laugh and her obsession with such minor details for someone with such a carefree attitude continues to stun me. Even though it was freezing, I loved listening to the way she described these insane people and outlandish encounters. Your free spirit mangled with our conflicting personalities makes for the perfect Sunday afternoon.
This weather is beautiful and I can't wait for it to be summer. I want to lay on Long Beach and dig my feet into the sand and sleep on my stomach for hours in the hot sun. I miss the sunsets and sticking to the towels drenched in murky water and covered in seaweed. But I want it to rain. I need a huge thunderstorm to wash away some of what's going on right now. I want to slide into cool, fresh sheets that dried outside in the summer sun. But the sheets on the other side of the bed have to stay where they were, tucked in and untouched. I want the windows open half way and the window to blow my curtains up a few inches so I can hear, see, and smell the rain. I can't wait for that streetlight to glare so brightly off the soaking wet blacktop that I have to squint my eyes even at night. And in the morning, I want the sunshine to throw the dewy spring scent through my window for one of those beautiful summer days. So they say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
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