I Missed Your Skin When You Were East

I’ve been at home for nearly a month now. I have a secure job and Aiden’s in school and he’s happy. Alli has even begun to plan her wedding and asked me to be her maid of honor.
Of course I accepted. It wasn’t for months, but we were all very excited.

And I should be happy that my life was able to snap back to where it was and everything was ok.

But I’m not.

I’m more depressed then I have been since I left here.

See the things is, when I told Brendon I would always love, I wasn’t lying. I always will, even if my mind tells me I shouldn’t, my heart always will.

And then there are my feelings for Jon. I don’t know what exactly they are. I mean, he is the logical good guy that I should be with. But just because you should be with that person,
doesn’t mean you want to be with that person.

And what confuses my emotions even more is the way they act.

I know Brendon must have some feelings for me, or he wouldn’t have come the airport and he wouldn’t be trying with Aiden. That’s another reason I want to be with Brendon, Aiden should have his mom and dad together.

But Jon was the guy who put me back together. He’s never broken me. He loves me, regardless of what I do. And I desperately want to want him and I usually get what I want.
And you would think after all this time my conflict over men would finally be over… but I honestly think time has only made things more confusing. Time tends to do that, as well as distance.

I’m about to get a great about of distance. Jon is leaving to record the Young Veins off in California with Ryan. Once they return, Ryan and Alli are getting married and leaving for a honeymoon. Once they return from a two week trip from Hawaii, they are going on tour for two months.

It doesn’t seem like long, but when you’re going to be away from the one you love and you could possibly be seeing more of the one you might possibly still, it feels like centuries.

And I know this probably sounds like the whiny crap someone teenager would cry about, but this is my heart. My heart that was stabbed, repaired itself, then shot by the stabber, then stitched back together. But I still love the stabber, who is also the shooter. And the stitcher is half bad either.

I hope this doesn’t take too long…Jon has been hinting towards us lately. And I don’t know if I can handle that.

I also don’t know if he can handle it. Not that I should matter how my life affects his life.

But I like to think that what I do deeply affects his life and he wants me to care.