heavy hearted, heavy handed, all this heaviness.

I was recklessly tumbling around my past this evening. Why do I always need to burn bridges and run away? I fell in to the blog Keeler, first girlfriend, first romantic heartbreak. I immediately found my way to the entries from our shared moments together; I didn't remember it like that. The weird mindfucking quality of my late night actions astound me and I don't know why I do these things. Ironically, ex-girlfriend number three called me masochistic when we broke up, and in the spirit of proving her wrong, I keep walking through old habits.

They don't matter anymore though, and I wish I could start over with this new life, in this new city, and love like I was able as a child. Hands and feet bound, blindfolded, jumping out of tenth storey windows hoping to fly. Thinking not of the eventual consequences, without reservation, there is no damage made.