I know for sure that when the second hand on my clock reaches the number nine it begins ticking and continues doing so until it comes around to the number three. I'm not quite sure why my clock only ticks while the second hand is passing through the top-half of my clock... but I never noticed it before this weekend.

I know for sure that the glowing stars that the previous occupant of my bedroom stuck to the ceiling above my bed can be blindingly bright at 4AM. Bright enough to grab ahold of your attention while they laugh at you for wishing to be anything but conscious. Before this weekend, they've never kept me up or laughed at me before.

I know for sure that the busses stop rolling through the Mass Ave station at around 2:45AM and that they start up again at 6AM, and while I might have known that previously, I never noticed this from my bedroom before this weekend.

I know for sure that once I took away the pictures I couldn't stand to keep on my walls that there is an overwhelming amount of white in my bedroom. And as the moonlight dances through the tree branches waving in the wind ghastly images can haunt me on those white walls all night. I was never haunted by anything in my bedroom before.

What I don't know is how two people can be walking down the street and spot a newlywed couple with an infant, prompting one of you to grab ahold of the other's arm so tight and stare lovingly into the other's eyes... and only two days later that same person that grabbed the other's arm be able rationalize that the two cannot be together at this juncture in their lives.

What I don't know is how someone can go from spending months praising the fact that you were older and more mature than other people they've dated, and then turn that very same thing into being a reason that they can't be with you.

What I don't know is how I let my guard down enough to let myself feel this way. To let someone else's decisions render me feeling helpless. I've spent my whole life laughing at the helpless and now I can't stand the site of myself for having joined their ranks.

I feel like I know so much about the unimportant things and don't know a goddamn thing about what's important. I feel like so much of what I've believed in was a dream, and now that I've woken up I'm facing the most painful of realities. I know what my mistakes are. I'd wear them on my sleeve for all to see if I thought it'd help. But to feel like there's no such thing as forgiveness or a chance to change in life has left me feeling more dissapointed than I've ever thought possible. --