table for two.

Or not.

(Fuck.)

I have become what I have dreaded to be my whole life, the one thing I poured every ounce of energy of mine to avoid. I am slowly becoming an angsty/whiner/angry-at-the-human-race/loather teenager (or at least for what's left of my teen years).

I have become a cliche. Dear God. No.

So there, bring on the pseudo-punk/gothic ensemble: the non-functional accessories, dark mismatched make-up and long scraggly hair. Bring on the those young teenage rock bands who live with their moms and I'll buy a ticket to their next concert. Or those heartbroken teenage rocker girls, who wail about lost loves using overly idiotic amateur poetry ignoring all rhyme and rhythm as an excuse to scream. Let them belt me out a song or two.

No, this isn't working.

I guess all the memories just kick in when visiting a place of nostalgia. More than just kicking in, it slaps you, spits on you and calls your mother names. Part of me wanted to bump into her while I was there. But it didn't happen. I remember the streets well, the sidewalks, the shops... it was because I used to drive by them with the girl I love beside me. In a sweet embrace that seemed to say "I don't want to let go."

Well, we both did. I've known no greater regret in my life than this. Giving up on someone. Of all the things that I am passionate about, everything that I have said about not giving up... I had to break all of that with the one thing I'm so desperate for now. Love. And not just any kind of love. The kind that makes your heart ache with delight once you have it and ache in pain the minute you lose it.

I miss having someone text me "good nyt, hon" in sweet cutesy letters with smileys. Or someone who's genuinely concerned whether I've eaten lunch or not. Or maybe catching a movie and cuddling together when it gets too cold inside the theater. The conversations over coffee and cigarettes with topics ranging from global hunger to shallow gossip. Or the times that we'd laugh so hard and so long that we sometimes forget what we were laughing about.

I've driven around the south, just the two of us. I loved every minute of it.

But now, even if i drive around with a group of people in the car, I'd still feel alone.

I told a friend of mine recently that people like us believe in only one thing, that we are made for someone. Is there a greater purpose than that? That is why I mope, I fall quiet, I sulk... it is because I am missing my purpose. I wasn't designed to be alone, with no one to love. It is my drug. My highest high. I am lost without someone in my life.

I'm guessing I'd see her tomorrow and from time to time. We'd exchange glances and a smile. Maybe even a hi. And we'd sit there in silence trying to ignore each other. Or maybe she has completely forgotten about me. Who knows? And she'd walk away and say goodbye, like we said to each other... only this time, we don't cry. We can't even force a tear if we wanted to.

She'd walk away not knowing that I would steal another glance at her... secretly hoping she was doing the same thing with me.