A Certain Somebody

Dear Diary,

Seems like I'm finally back from a semi-long absence. I don't write nearly as much as I should now, but I will try my best to. I think I have begin to be tired of being affectionate. I catch myself being almost insincere at times, often times to the very people that I should be sincere to. I also find myself sick and tired of being so lovey-dovey. It's not an Angela thing to do and it turns me, transforms me, if you will, into a frantic rather than cynical romantic.

I don't like myself that way. I have never been such a person, and hoped that I never would be, but alas.

Perhaps this is more to me than everyone else, but as a dedicated believer of Murphy's Law, I can't help but wait for something to go wrong so I may tell myself that good relationships belong in the same imaginary bin as good men.

Nothing has gone wrong at all, but it makes me anxious, frightened even, to think of what may come. It is impossible to have happy days forever, and I should rarely be committed enough to even say the word forever.

Maybe I'm just tired and the old brain has been running too long.

Please, tell me it's just me when I say I feel the silence before a storm.

Love,
Your dedicated writer