In which I am a dunce.

My nerves always seem to get the best of me. This evening, I went to the library, obviously to "rent" some books, and to hopefully speak to Michael. When I pulled into the library, I was shaking horribly, due to my shyness. Thinking that it would pass after I walked around, I continued my trudge up the stairs. After renewing my membership, I caught a glance of Michael, and ran to the "Non-Fiction" section, and then scolded myself for being so silly. I wandered around, found two great political books, the Garden State DVD, and two Beethoven CD's. By this time, I felt guilty for being so shy, so, I walked up to the front counter to check-out, and say hello. Sadly, my nerves kicked right back in, and I left not saying a word to Michael. I did get my books, though. Anyways, Michael, if you read this, I am terribly sorry for not saying, "Hello".

I made a terrible decision on my way home: I drove down third street. Now, you may be wondering why a street would mean so much. Well, it's not so much the street as it is a certain building. The five seconds that it took to drive-by, honest to God felt like a lifetime. I experienced longing, hatred, sadness, guilt, love, and compassion, within that short time span. My heart is still beating a million miles per hour, and I feel as if I could become ill. I have avoided that street since May 9th. Oh well, it was my ignorant decision.

The past, I curse. It keeps creeping slowly back into my mind, and it is merciless. Why am I so pathetic?