third time's a charm

So... I haven't posted anything in a while.
Lately I've been busy, I guess. I get home from school, eat, head off to kickboxing [something about those huge red bags remind me so badly of my ex , I just can't help but sink my foot into it. I think it might be because they're bigger than I am.], shower, run off to the office I work at, get home around 10.30 or so and finish as much work as I can pin my eyes open to see before crawling to bed. I'm the kind of person that needs oh, about 30 hours of sleep? I can never get enough of lazing around in bed, and it's sufficient to say I haven't gotten enough sleep lately.

On the weekends, when school isn't sapping the life out of me, I'm baking or cooking or making some sort of thing to gobble up. I've turned into some sort of Susie Homemaker, and I honestly love it. There's something so satisfying about making every little thing from scratch, I'm addicted. I've slowly been spiralling out of control, about every minute I'm thinking "ah, what should I make for lunch? Maybe I'll make something sweet today."

When I'm stressed or upset, I cook/bake. Today I made cheesy biscuits and the ganache for truffles. Speaking of which, I don't think it's even set yet, after ... 5 hours? hahaha. i miiiight have added too much vanilla extract. It tastes delicious though, and if it hasn't set by tomorrow, I'm making cupcakes instead and using the ganache as a frosting. Mini cupcakes, of course, to fit into the obscenely small muffin tin I bought recently. The truffles are a present for my best friend's mother, it was her birthday recently. She's such a sweet woman, and there are times I feel like she just doesn't get pampered like she should. I think after you have kids, you kinda stop caring about taking care of yourself so much. I guess it's kinda 'cause you don't really have a choice. What a sad thought.

Before I pass out, I think I'm going to crawl into bed and snooze my life away <3
[I don't understand you crazies who say sleep is a waste of time. ]

its always better the second time around , baby.

a pretty idea from a pretty friend.

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You know, I've always been there for him. Through the rain, the wind, the sweat, the tears, I've always been there. When he first started running, oh, he was so sweet. I was naive, fresh off the belt and my heart still skips a beat when I remember the way his eyes would dance with childish awe when he looked at me. I had never felt so special, so alive. His hands would tenderly undo my laces after a particularly exciting run, the sheer love and respect his fingers lavished on me was dizzying.

We needed each other. Whether it was a good day, a bad day, or one of those days he just couldn't feel anything at all, he'd pick me up, lace me up and we'd go out. I never minded, of course. He took care of me, polished me and gave me every little desire. Best of all, I liked being used. I loved the way his weight crushed me down, every little nuance of his body working to keep up, and best of all, the fact that I was helping him achieve his dreams. I lived for him.

Then she came along, all perfectly proportioned padding and shiny new. I watched while my stomach twisted into knots, I watched as he lavished the love i had once owned onto this newer, better... thing. Sure I'd gotten a bit older, I didn't have the same sheen as I used to, and my edges were fraying, but couldn't he still use me? Wasn't I special to him? Didn't he love me once?

He uses me on occasion, and I cringe when he touches me. Of course, not because I can't stand his touch, but because I know exactly how much I've craved it. Even if he doesn't show it, I can feel the dissatisfaction in his step. He doesn't give me anything, so how can he take it all away? I'm disgusted with myself. He's just another man, move on. They come and go, and I've lost my purpose here. I tell myself to stop hanging around where I'm not needed. He only uses me when it's rainy outside, so his precious, newer, better, prettier shoes don't get ruined.

The idea was to write from a pair of shoes POV. "She" had been used by a runner for a very long time, until he got a new pair.