the first cut is the deepest

Driving to work today, Sheryl Crow came on the radio, and I never really listened to her lyrics until this morning. I don't know why I decided to pay attention this morning. This song's been out for years.

Anyway, it got me thinking. Am I scarred for life? Am I broken for all future guys? Was she? Millionaire or not, emotions run the same for every woman. That's why music is so powerful.

I wonder why I can't get past it. I wonder why I feel so guilty every time I allow myself to start liking someone new. I feel he's still inside my heart telling me, "Not yet. Wait a little longer." He's still a dominant part of my thoughts. It's kind of 50% him, 44% random, 6% Twilight. (*edit* Ok, I was argued against by some saying my Twilight obsession consists of more than a mere 6%, and sadly, I must agree. Therefore, allow me to rephrase by saying 50% him, 44% Twilight, 6% random. Happy, people?)

As I've mentioned before, they're not painful thoughts anymore. Not really, at least. They're more fond memories. But whatever kind they are, they're still very present. Everything about this town has a link to him. From the stop sign around the corner of my building office to the pencil sitting on my desk at home. It's like, I don't want to forget any of it, but I can't hold onto it either. Is there any way to store these memories in a safe deposit box and bring them out later when I can laugh about the day he packed up his things, told me to never speak to him again, and walked out the door of our apartment? I still have two of his tshirts, socks, and gloves.

Four nights in a row now that I've dreamt of him. Where is a witch doctor when you need one?