i see you, you see me...differently

I remember when it used to be different. Maybe I was different. That's what I'm thinking now...that I didn't notice that you never really noticed me. REALLY noticed. Not the kind of notice where if I didn't show up for days on end or return any phone calls you might think to call the police...The kind of notice where if I'd taken off with just the few precious little things that mattered - you'd notice they were gone. The black journal that sits in my little box of things in the living room. It's still unopened and unwritten in. My grandparents got it for me - a gift to take with me on my first trip to Israel. I refuse to write in it until then. Or the picture of my mother. She's young...and it's one of the only pictures of her without her glasses.

Everything seems so different now. And I know they always end up that way - but it never changes that I never want them to. Seeing you sometimes makes me feel alone. Because I remember what it felt like...being around you. And I can't really shake that maybe we weren't equally present in everything as I thought we were then...but a few seconds later and my mind is telling me that it doesn't matter. It doesn't make you miss something any less.

Today, as I write this, I am exhausted. My legs and back are stiff and ache with sleeping for nights on end on the love seat. I haven't tanned in weeks and I feel pale. I haven't exercised in weeks either and I feel like...an unmovable thing. My mind is desperately trying to keep up with everything else, deadlines, stories, notes, homework. It fails from time to time...forgetting things. Like my homework today - for that matter.

And while - if I have to be plagued with thoughts - I'd rather be plagued with thoughts of whether or not to stop working so much and start writing more...I'm finding myself frustrated that everything is different.

Or is it?