I haven't been blogging. Sorry.
I haven't had anything to say.
It's a thought that takes me only a second to say and only two seconds to realize is a complete lie.
We bought a house. We bought dogs. The semester ended and I needed a job. When did I grow up?
Why did I grow up?
I feel like I've reached a standstill, where I'd rather someone pick out my outfits, my meals, my daily tasks and my future. I'll probably be fine with whatever "someone" chooses. I just don't want to choose it myself. This is the train of thought that makes me think "I haven't had anything to say."
Fact is, I've had a lot to say. I just don't want to say it.
It's probably because to say things makes me feel vulnerable and open. Generally, I like this feeling. I like to foster that between me and my family and friends. Truly, I do. But I like it on my terms.
And when one is officially a super-senior in college (COLLEGE? WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?!), a wife, a home-owner, and soon to be a full-time worker and goal-achiever, the vulnerability is officially no longer my own.
And maybe that's why I don't want to say things. I think I already feel like I'm saying enough.