The Future

I think some of the best parts of life hurt the worst.

Relationships being the first thing I think of. It seems like every time we start a steady routine of being okay, I do something to fuck it up, and most of the time it’s not something I tell him. It’s not even something between us that fucks us up, its me. It’s all me, I get shit in my head and I start believing it. And I don’t know how to stop it.
I can’t do this anymore.
The distance is too much
I can’t handle this.
And every time I say that, I remind myself that it’s next month. And maybe I’m just living for December, maybe I’m pushing myself through just to see if it’s right. To see if we’re right. Or maybe I really do believe it’s meant to be for us.
I keep thinking that in 30ish days he’ll be here and I can see if it’s real.
I read this blog called TinyBuddha.com and what was posted, I don’t know, some time ago was the illusion of the future, and I’ll link it at the bottom, but it talked about the future being an illusion, something we’ve made up in our head. But as we live, the future comes to us. In two minutes, I’ll be further down the page, and that’s the future, and in two minutes, this will be the past. And in 30 days, that will be the future. And this will be the past.
If I don’t make myself happy now, I won’t be happy in 30 days, or even 300 days, because that’s not how it works.

The future doesn’t make us happy. We make us happy.