I think I should have loved you presently...

So...change....decisions...future...bah

I don't want to have to deal with them right now, but alas, I must. Because I'm being faced with change, that in turn I must make decisions to that will both trivial and important to my future...

I thought/think I love fencing. It's so fun and it has changed my life in many ways, as well as given me a place to go and sort of vent my pent up energy, but something has changed. It just doesn't feel the same anymore. I'm not sure if it's me or if it's...well no it can't be anything else but me. Because it's ultimately my choice isn't it? Whether I still love it or not...What I'm coming to is that I'm probably going to have to quit.

I'm going to have to drop my AP European History class...which SUCKS because I love that class soo much, but I just can't keep up with the work load. But I love the subject!! But I'm going to have to replace it with another class so that I can keep participating in extra curriculars (I completely misspelled that word) and stuff.

I'm thinking of completely dedicating myself to theatre...which I'm not sure is such a good idea, but I like it a lot, and it makes me happier than anything else. I'm scared that I've taken my love for it for granted or completely ignored it up 'til now. So I'm wondering if it's too late?

I'm soo freaking scatter-brained and indecisive!

I'm scared that I'm going to quit something I could have the most potential in... but then again I can't keep spreading myself thin over too much bread... or else I won't reach any kind of potential at anything.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I think I should have loved you presently,
And given in earnest words I flung in jest;
And lifted honest eyes for you to see,
And caught your hand against my cheek and breast;
And all my pretty follies flung aside
That won you to me, and beneath your gaze,
Naked of reticence and shorn of pride,
Spread like a chart my little wicked ways.
I, that had been to you, had you remained,
But one more waking from a recurrent dream,
Cherish no less the certain stakes I gained,
And walk your memory’s halls, austere, supreme,
A ghost in marble of a girl you knew
Who would have loved you in a day or two.