I don't want things to die.I don't want to wake up one morning to find it all floating at the top of the bowl, bobbing back and forth with the current. Especially if I did all I could to take care of it, keep it healthy, and make sure it was happier than it had ever been before.
But sometimes it just happens.It probably shouldn't, but it really gets under my skin when things that seemed to be swimming along fine suddenly change. I look at the tank and get this pit in my stomach, and all I can do is think to myself, "What did I do wrong? How did I not see this coming? What could I have done to prevent this?"
Sometimes I forget that I don't control everything. Sometimes I get really frustrated that I can't. I've done a lot of things in this life that I'm not proud of. I've had a lot of things crash and burn on me, and right or wrong -- I'm still dealing with a lot of guilt over them.Why is it all the things I care about eventually leave and go away?
I'm not perfect. I burn things in the oven. I look funny when I dance. I'm a little heavy in the middle, and I'm kinda bald on top. I'm too nice where I shouldn't be, and too shy when there's no reason to be. I flirt with everyone I know. I truly believe that the strippers and bartenders I give money to are actually my friends. No one beats me at air hockey. I hate the Black Eyed Peas, I never let people go (even when it might be the better thing to do), and even though I still don't really understand why it keeps happening -- the fact remains that there are really only two kinds of fish in this world:
1) Fish I've killedYou need to know this about me. You need to understand what it means, and you have to decide how you feel about it -- because it's who I am and it's probably who I'll always be. But even so, and even with everything else that is or perhaps isn't going on there is nothing I want more in this world than to swim in this ocean with you.
2) Fish I haven't killed yet.
..Even if it's filled with corpses.
[Listening to: Reverend Horton Heat, "Indigo Friends"]