Feeling things is hard. I get it, wanting to disappear into a fog of the immediacy

Last night I felt so full of possibility. Like my skin was vibrating with all the possible things it could do.

Then there was the giggle loop over and over again. It was like being above the line to the extreme.

Mostly I wanted to sleep. Mostly what  my body wanted was to be quiet and calm and sleep for a very long time.

And I did. I slept all day and went to therapy and then slept the rest of the day. Finally woke up a couple hours ago.

I'm going back to bed. I don't feel well. not well at all.

Entonces,  que haces? Como decides,  a quien escoges?

Every conversation that I have with you in my head never lives up to reality. You were always so much more interesting in my mind. The longer you stay away, the more I miss you. It's only when you are here the illusion is shattered. Only when you speak and act and feel in my presence. Go away darling. But please come back.

It was an adele song.

Hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet. To go over everything.

And we did. And it was perfect. It was
Remember that time you made love to me and I let you.  Remember that time being together was easy and light. Remember the time we were so full of emotions and feelings and wants and needs and were just exactly what we needed for each other.

Choose to believe that the words that linger in your mind are only echoes from a life you don't have anymore.  A life you don't need anymore. Choose to do something different. Choose to be kind to yourself when if you don't believe you deserve kindness.  And it will be hard and it will be painful. And it will be beautiful.

The thing I am trying to decide is wether I am doing this because I want to or because I don't think I deserve better. Am I helping or hurting myself? Or both?

4am comes every day, like clockwork

She is building me a coffin. She steals the energy from me. And when you kiss me and I let you, and when you walk away and I let you. She slips in, takes your place, holds me at night, when you don't. So often you don't.  She is there. And it feels like she is getting stronger every day and I am getting weaker.

She is whispering in my ear these thoughts.  She says, swearve the car just a little to the left. Onto the oncoming truck. You won't feel a thing. It was just an accident. But that's not true.  A car accident wouldn't be good, the other driver,  Any passengers they had,  their families and loved ones.
She says go get sleeping pills, like last time. But last time didn't work and pills are expensive and someone would have to find the body and pack up my stuff. She says: What an inconvenience, even in death, especially in death. What an inconvenience I am. This isn't fair to anyone. To burden anyone with me. She whispers so nobody else can hear except for me. She twists everything. She lies. These things are not true. She says: you are unlovable. She says: you are broken. You will always be broken.

If I close my eyes and cover my ears. If I hide out here in the car, in the dark. Maybe the monster will be gone when I finally get inside.

I'm afraid of cleaning when I get like this.  Because it always feels like I'm cleaning up for people who will come in to find the body.  Like it's stupid but a messy apartment keeps me alive.

I think i loved a girl once,  maybe. And even though she didn't love me the way I wanted,  knowing I could love was enough. But the girl is gone and she took the love with her. And all I have left is the heart you broke ten years ago. It's in too many pieces for me to ever give it away again, even to myself. Especially to myself.

Current mood: Despondent

There's a joke here. What gets bigger the more you take away? A hole! Get it? Hahaha.

I want to hide from the world now. I'm done. With healing. With experimenting. With dating. Dark rooms. The TV always on because there has to be some kind of noise in the background right? To drown out all the noise we make. To stifle the sounds. Lock it up. Put it away. This is not good or real. Nothing is good or real. Nothing is bad or fake either. We make it all up. In the end, there is nothing but stories and the people unlucky enough to live to tell them.

If these things affect me this strongly, that means I'm not ready.  If giving a heart away makes it crumble that means I still need to keep holding it until the glue dries.  I am not lonely. I do not need a partner, instead i need to stop trying to distract myself with distractions.  Because it would be so easy to wrap myself up in another person.  Their wants their needs.  So easy to avoid my own.

This is what i made it mean: i attract people who are bad for me. People who will use and hurt me. This is what I made it mean: I am wrong and broken and there is something so wrong with me that everyone can tell I am someone to take advantage of. This is what I made it mean: love is not unconditional. Love is not kind,  love is not patient. This is what I made it mean: I am unlovable. I am not worthy of respect. This is what I made it mean: hide,  withdraw, push everyone away. There is nobody to trust but yourself.

Sometimes people don't leave. Sometimes they still reach out decades in. Sometimes they love you enough to be happy when you are happy.  Sometimes they will drive around the park all morning while you cry about some damn nightmare that doesn't mean anything.

Drinking

Having such a good time.  I missed her. Not her exactly,  but who I am when she's around.  That's the her I missed.

Say goodbye,  to him. Let it go. Since people,  most people,  are not strong enough to handle it. I should know this.  Let it go.  Let it go.  Let him go.  Move on.  A mantra. A whisper not said out loud. Never say it out loud.  Let it go.  Let it go.