Does anyone else find it funny that I listen to Counting Crows like it's my job nowadays?
No... no one really does, do you?

You know why? It's because I've kept it from you. That being little facts that make two and two equal four. The little things that don't matter on their own but when you put them together, you get the story of my life. That's all we are. A string of insignifigant events that, when added together, create a unique and stunning story of exactly what we are and how we work.

Let me give you some numbers.

Back in the day, some four or five years ago, I had a girlfriend who loved Counting Crows. It was just so intense and she was just that kind of person that if I listened to their music, I felt guilty. I felt like I was on her turf and that was something I couldn't do. Listening to them for the sake of her, it seems kindof silly.

That was fact one. Is it more than a simple story that you wasted 30 seconds reading? Right now, it has no signifigance. It is a single peice of my mind that you could very well consider crap.

I was never sure if I liked Counting Crows. I thought I did but I could never tell if it was because they reminded me of her or because I liked the music. This was partially the reason I felt guilty listening to them.

Fact two. Just as simple.

Bitch. Complete and utter bitch. So very insecure and not right for me. So much that I couldn't listen to Counting Crows for some time. I would turn it off on the radio. It didn't exist if I didn't want it to.

Still single-fact based. Save your neurons, stop reading now.

Now I listen all the time. I love Counting Crows. In part, I know it's because I like the music but another part of me that I can only push under the sofa for so long tells me that it's because I hope to meet someone that I can be as happy with as I was with her while we were happy.

Please tell me a thing or two is connecting for you. It'd be silly to come all this way just to not understand the connections.

So what is this? Why do I like it? Regardless of the unhappy message in some of the songs, they remind me of a time that I was happy. Utterly happy. She was, most surely, my first love and she will always hold that place. How can I think anything but goodness of her even if she emailed me when I got back from vacation and told me she never wanted to speak with me again? It's silly, it's unreasonable. It's the end of my story.

And this is what? A few simple facts thrown together to make a statement on how I think, how others have treated me in the past and how I desire love for myself. This story is self-fulfilling. Anything that it leads on to explain, it does. But it doesn't end there. I've only let you know the parts of the story that make my point. I can add more. I can tell you that the very same person gave me the ring that I wear every day. The same ring that helps me get from day to day by reminding me that no matter what happens, life goes on. Does that add a twist? Maybe moreso if you read my rants and raves on a more daily basis. What if there was a story, just one? Maybe two stories that run parallel to this. Picking up and leaving off on the places that I decide. Leting you know what I want you to know and holding back when you might see the story leading towards a different direction.
They're all under my control. You only know what I want you to know.

And to what end? Who really knows?

Maybe if you took the numbers and added them together you would get four. Because there is nothing I hold back on. I hint at everything and no one picks up. I give you the world in subtle gestures and all you can do is stare blankly at what you have. You have a two and you have another two. What in the world could you possibly do with those twos?

Maybe someday, someone will add my twos together and really figure out what I'm about. Someone to save me from my secrets. Until that day, I'll keep creating twos and leaving them around. It's just your job to pick them up and keep them in a little box until you have enough to solve it. I'm pretty simple. I swear.