Currently Listening Writer's Block By Peter Bjorn and John see related

I'm peacing  this shit.

Currently Listening Juno By Original Soundtrack All I want is you see related

I'm pleased to say that I'm starting to feel a little bit better when I think about it.
I'm not finished with this bizarre little healing process by any means, but I've stopped feeling totally worthless everytime I think about it. What does bother me is how I'm not really talking to Chase. I know that I said that we need to keep out of eachothers hair a little bit, but I really feel...avoided? He has a bad habit of starting a conversation while he's doing something and then just walking away, but it feels like thats the only kind of contact we've had all week.

I keep thinking about what it would have ended up like if I had gone visit this week. If he had ever taken ten minutes to make some kind of plans, if I bought my ticket, and inevitably had to go so they wouldn't go to waste. If I was almost stuck being face to face with him after the initial let down. I think it would have been okay. Maybe it would have increased this weird longing I have for things to just work out, or he might have been sucked back into the on and off feelings he seems to have for me. I like to think that we'd just hang out out for a  few days and have fun together, no complications, no drama.  Only in a perfect world, right?

Currently Listening Split the Country, Split the Street By Kevin Devine see related

Song of the moment:

I was consumed with proving you were a liar.
But what good would that do?
We both know the truth;
we were there and we lived it.

But then we kept rewriting and revising it.
Rehashing and repeating
it was bad for us both.
And I was passive aggressive--I'm sorry,
I was anxious to let it all go.

You're no one else's problem but you sure are mine....
You're no one else's problem but you sure are mine......

So many words and they all burn like blood on my tongue....
so many songs and I hate singing every one.
I worry that I may never be satisfied.
I try and try and try,
but it's there in the front of my mind:
bodies rotting in water into mixtures of color that blur all the time.

You're no one else's problem but you sure are mine....
You're no one else's problem but you sure are mine....
You're no one else's problem but you sure are....

yeah, you sure are mine.

Listening to songs off my serenade list and Kevin Devine on repeat.
Reading old conversations that sting like hell, watching a chick flick.
In a few minutes I'll be brushing the taste of chamomile tea out of my mouth, and curling up in bed to read a Sarah Dessen novel while the sun comes up, because I've been making use of that awful habit that involves me staying up all night to talk to you.

This is typical, all too common, and the beginning to curing heartache.

This is when I act like a theater dork.

I think I relate to Mrs. Lovett's charectar in Sweeney Todd, in the sense that she's doing what she can to change someone she loves feelings into being for her. And then she gets pushed into an oven because despite her best efforts, because he will never love her.
Too bad I can't feel like a character from Bye Bye Birdie or something.