My apologies

for not writing very much this summer. I guess it doesn't really matter though, not many people read this. In fact, it's even probably somewhat narcissistic to apologize, making the assumption that this shit is actually important to anyone. It's not. So I guess this apology is only directed to myself. I'm the only one let down by my lack of writing, I'm only hurting myself. Not many people can understand what that's like; how important it is to clear my head, to channel and connect all the swirling, internalized messes. Not letting that out has undoubtedly only made my summer worse. And it's not like I have any excuses for why I wasn't keeping up with my blog. Busy? Ha, I had nothing but time. Smooth sailing? Wrong. Plenty of stresses and worries to sustain my ever-anxious mind. And either way, it would have been nice to write a happy poem for a first.

So aside from losing touch with myself, why was my summer so miserable, you may wonder? Oops there I go again, pretending that someone somewhere is reading this, asking them questions as if we were having a conversation. Well, imaginary friend, the biggest reason is probably my real-life friends. Don't get me wrong, there are a few people who I was happy to spend time with, and a few people who seemed like they were happy to have me back. But for the most part, coming home was just a series of disappointments. It's very clear to me that despite how similar everything looks driving in, nothing is really the same. I understand now that life in Thousand Oaks continues to go on whether I'm here or not. That includes new friendships, new relationships, new jobs... and despite the naturalness of it all, being away and coming back to it makes it feel so sudden. I guess what hurts the most is that the people I expected to care, expected to be excited for my return, totally dropped the ball. And to think how I was in SD missing those people... it almost makes me laugh. But I guess sitting through this mild torture of their indifference has made me realize what quality friends I indeed HAVE made in San Diego, friends that call and check up, ask me how I'm doing, tell me they miss me. The silver lining in it all is the fact that perhaps I have also moved on with my life, away from TO. Being treated like shit here (okay, exaggeration) makes me excited to return to school, to live in my first house ever with people I adore, to go back to all of the high quality (fuck quantity) friendships I've made.

Anyway, if anyone is actually reading this, sorry for the novel. Again, this is just an apology to myself, as I am rather disappointed about not only falling so far behind with my daily writing, but also for relying too much on people. But beyond an apology, this serves more as a staple: one that I can look back on and learn from.