Notes to Cindy: The Archives

Last night was our final night in the apartment. Our cat, Oliver, kept us both up most of the night. After dad and Joanna picked up our stuff, we went into town for a pizza and hung out outside of Ingles. Alyssa re-“liked” a comment I left in March/April and Tamara decided she didn’t want to be in my extensive list of “A’s”, so I can’t call her “Anya” anymore, which obviously sucks in the scheme of things. Maybe she’ll change her mind, but I doubt it. It seems like every time things don’t add up like that, something eventually happens to change, and then end, the relationship, and I don’t want that to happen- not with her. Everything fit so perfectly, until this. Maybe I should accept that nothing’s perfect and just continue to live my imperfect, chaotic, life. I just don’t understand, though. It all was going the way I had planned it. Did I make a fatal mistake somewhere? I know that I need to grow up and stop living in my world of patterns and control, but it’s the inconsistency of patter that makes me anxious and paranoid. If negative emotions are supposed to be signs of diverging from the path, then where the hell did I turn? I’ve done everything I was supposed to… everything I was told.