I went to play frisbee with the guys today. I didn't play much, and ran away before I think they were really done playing, but I'm glad they let me in.
Now, as the day gets darker and drerier, I find myself on the verdge of tears yet again.
Talking with Erin, she was asking me if I knew what I was doing next year, and why I was thinking about changing. We got to that point in the discussion where it was yet again concluded that you can love somewhere, but still not fit there.

I try so hard to want Coe. To fit here and make it one of those places where I really feel like I belong. But maybe I'm trying in the wrong ways, or looking for the wrong things. Because it isn't working.
I imagine leaving, and coming back to visit Kristin next year, and walking back onto this campus as a stranger; a dwindler who lingers when I should be gone.
And, as I always end up doing, I wonder... I don't belong in Rochester. I don't belong here. I don't belong in Ben's arms, or any of the other people who I've had failed relationships with. There's so many places that I don't belong, whats ever to make me believe I do belong somewhere?

It's a part of life to have your heart broken once. Twice, again and again and again. If you live life without pain, it's because you're not letting reality take it's toll, or you refuse to take the world and all it has to offer. I am broken. Some days the peices fit back together, but they only stay with warn peices of legendary duct tape, "that which can fix anything". And the duct tape is even wearing down so the threads holding it together are starting to rip, strand by strand.
The littlest peices of my shatteredself turn to dust and get wisked away in the wind. I watch them scatter to the ends of the earth, knowing sometimes I'm glad to be rid of them; they were holding me down. But the jagged peices stay. Those peices don't let old wounds heal, and more often than not rip the tape holding myself together. So, before I'm ever whole again, the peices fall apart.

My head aches. I'm glad to be going home this weekend, because home is like a sanctuary for me. I can lose myself there in time, feeling safe, secure, and out of touch with the world around me. I can forget who I'm supposed to be for days at a time, or at least, I can pretend to have everything together. Because when I'm around all those familiar places and people who love me so much, everything else really does fade and all that matters is that I have a moment of their time.
But just like Coe, my love for those people and familiar places isn't enough to keep me there. It can't make me fit, and it only holds a limited amount of happiness.

I remember what it's like to smile. Not one of those fake painted plastered on smiles, but a real genuine smile. The way your muscles tighten and pull at your skin. It sends a tingle through your body that makes you want to laugh out loud. For a moment, whatever sadness is hidden in your eyes dissapears.

Things fade. Smiles, broken-ness, happiness, frustration, longing, wanting. You loose them if you can't hold on. And, even when you try to hold on, after a while you have to let your grip slack because your muscles are warn out. It's easier just to let go sometimes.

What is there, beyond wanting to feel needed, wanted, or loved? People love me everywhere I go. At home, I have stronger connections with my sister and some of my good friends than other people will ever feel in their lifetimes. At school, I have people who want me to stay and be happy here, because they would miss me. They want me. But being needed... It's selfish and nai've to believe anyone couldn't survive without me. People's lives would change if I wasn't here, but they would adjust, and life would go on without me. If that's true, what's so important about needing to be needed anyway?

My dreams are still there, still waiting for someone to need me as much as I need them. Because when it all comes down to it, I'm a dependent person- I depend on other people to include me, and want me, and love me, and accept me.
Someone has to need me.