On Saturday night, Courtney and I worked out. This was probably the fifth time in my life I have seriously worked my body, and I am still suffering the consequences. But that's not the point. After gym time, we went to her apartment and somehow winded up watching a bunch of really mushy engagement videos and videos of girls seeing their missionaries for the first time in two years and kissing and adorableness and love and blah blah blah ew. Okay.
But that's not how I really feel. Secretly my heart aches for that, for something honest. Something to look forward to. Someone you can share everything with and he won't judge you, not even a little bit. He'll just love ya. This is so weird -- I never talk about this; I never admit it. I'll admit to having crushes and silly little things because they can be easily brushed off and forgotten. Wanting to be loved can't be. I think I've made some serious strides though. I think I've been able to open my heart to possibilities. Maybe. Too bad having the capacity to love someone doesn't mean you'll have the opportunity to.
Remember that time I told myself I was going to go to sleep at 9:00? What even happened? Oh, I just started thinking. My brain got busy and my body obliged. That's really starting to become detrimental to my health.
In case you ever wondered what kind of music I listen to when my mind gets on the midnight train to Thinkingville, it's things like this:
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