It’s so much easier not to try than it is to deal with screwing up.

It’s so much easier to pretend I don’t have any real goals, or that they’re all pipe dreams I’ve never really believed in, than to take actual steps toward achieving them.

It’s so much easier to stay in bed than it is to face daylight.

It was so much easier to be with you than it is to live my life thoroughly.

No amount of knowing better will stop me from missing the snow on the ground and your arms around me, skipping class and wasting the whole afternoon. You and I insulated each other so soundly, and I know I’m supposed to be ambitious, but right now all I want is that safety back.

I know the reason we got out of the shelter we’d been using each other for was that we were both getting restless. But all my moods are so short-lived, my eyelids are heavy and I wish you were here to tell me my heart palpitations are nothing to worry about. I need rest.

I’m not happy with myself tonight because I’ve let myself down by not prioritizing right.

I’m frustrated that I’m not improving as fast as I’d like; that I’m backsliding; that I’m not the force of nature I thought I might be once I shook you off.

I’m disappointed in myself.

But it’s so much easier just to miss you.

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