I went back. I read it all.  This last one lasted 2 months. Started at the beginning of November.  I think mr s.i. was the trigger. And it took me all the way until now to come back. I don't know how long i'll be here. I hope I get a couple months.

Tonight will be hard.
But maybe it doesn't have to be. Maybe it can just be another night. I was leaving home yesterday,  locking up and I had this thought in passing. "It's his birthday tomorrow" and it's not. Not his birth day.  It's his death day. It's been my birthday I've been celebrating all these years. Because I think that's when so much of who I am today was born.

Maybe tonight doesn't have to be hard. I'm in a good place. Depressive episode over. Maybe I don't have to go back just yet. Maybe i can be alone. Just another night.

I keep wanting to falter.  Reach out.  Connect with someone. Today W. said he doesn't know how he would have gotten through his break up without me. It made me want to cry. Yesterday M reached out and said hi, said he and fiancee would be here next week and that we should hang out. Everyone else has stayed away.

I wonder how they are. I wonder what they've been up to. How they've spent their days.  What the title of this chapter in their life is. I wonder if they miss me.

I wonder if they'll miss me.
"Why is the measure of love,  loss"

Broken things must be thrown out.  Let me throw me out.

I have lived a life surrounded in dishonesty. In hiding.  I am an honest person. It has caused quite the cognitive dissonance.

Today the universe keeps saying slow down.  Stop. You're going to fast. And I am.  Barreling through to some kind of end. I am in a hurry.  I want to get there. Faster. So I skipped the expressway because I don't feel myself.

What a sentence. I don't feel myself.  As if I knew the self that is me.  As if I have ever felt anything other than this emptiness. This desire to destroy myself. A better sentence is I skipped the expressway because I felt too myself.

I keep thinking about medication.
But I don't want to get better. I just want to make it through the day without figuring out how to kill myself. Although I imagine that's what medication will do for me. Make it so I can get through the days.

There is no right way.  No perfect plan.  One day I just gotta do it and hope I don't survive.

The problem you see, is that the only thing keeping me alive right now is the fact that people would be hurt if I died.  It would be uncomfortable.  An inconvenience. What an inconvenient person I am. Best stay away.

One day we'll be gone so long from each other's lives that i'll stop counting the days. And you never counted in the first place.

A scheduled day

Today still feels like drowning. Drowning and detachment. I care so little right now. I don't know if that's true. I'm tired of trying. I want to destroy. Something. Myself. How would I do it? How will I do it? It all seems so messy. The way she plays with me. I am a plaything. Her plaything. An ant being held under a magnifying glass, long enough to burn, but not long enough to die. Can I lay down now please. Tonight.  Just this once. And forever. Can this day be over now? Can this life be over now? I am not careless enough. This body wants to survive. It's how I know i'm a thing other than this body.  Perhaps a parasite implanted by the virgin mother. Perhaps that is why I am so at war with myself. A body fighting itself since the virgin mother brought me back to life. Claiming it for herself. 90 days. Detox for 90 days.

This hurts.
A squeezing in the chest. Short of breath. Maybe tomorrow i'll feel better. If I die tonight,  I won't find out.

If I get better, it will be easier to complete my goals.  My deadlines.

Day 5

Look what a good job I did. And here you are back again. To open up scars. But I can stay committed.  I can stay alone. You are not real.  This is not real.  It's only in my head,  it's all only in my head.

Would it make a difference,  i wonder, if i could feel what other people feel when they think about me.
This is a game you see. Today I am too young to know better and playing a game of how long can I go without speaking. Can i be invisible.  I think i can.  I know i can. I've trained to be a ninja. I've trained. I don't belong here and there's nothing for me to say.
And that's ok.

I should take this seriously. Make a list. Goals. Smart goals with deadlines and such.
First,  find out what happens to one's debt after one dies. Because if the debt gets inherited, then I need to do everything in my power to pay all debt off.
Second,  plan the perfect murder. It's research for a book i'll say.  And it won't be a lie. I have time while i'm paying off all this debt. And it's not a lot. 2k in a credit card. 12k in the car. Some stupid lawsuit that's less than 1k. If I really focus I can have it all done before the end of next year.
And I will really focus.
Figure out how to get the money for the funeral costs to the person responsible for handling said funeral costs.

There's other little things of course, like getting rid of all this stuff I seem to have accumulated over the years

Give in to all the things and desires that my heart and my body want because whats the point in waiting? There is no tomorrow to plan for. As long as they don't require money,  then give in to everything. Say yes to it all.

Get myself on a schedule. A schedule for food and a schedule for sleep and a schedule for work.

Search for a different job. Best not make deep connections right now. No point really. Maybe I should quit everything and do uber. People make a living off that, right?

It's like i'm in the verge of crying but also feel really calm about the whole thing.

I wasn't talking this seriously before. I wasn't. I was enamored with romantic affairs that promised a glimpse at a life. A future. I was investing in people who were trying to keep me here.  Trapped.  Alive.

Everyone's gone now.  No more affairs. I can be serious about this now. I can take it seriously now.

Incomplete dream sequence

You were the 50 foot man terrorizing the city and I was the woman who drove you there. A serial killer maybe. We were watching the documentary of us. You had a discount and wanted to see it.  You didn't know it was about us. Because back then you didn't know there was an us.

It's like i'm not happy unless i'm working on breaking someone's heart.

Mostly mine to be honest

I wish I could give in to the things my body wants to do with her. It's so validating. Because even with the him who keeps taking over my psyche,  I don't feel this way when we're together. If he kisses me it wakes my body upand then I want him,  then I want to reach for him,  to feel him on me. in me. If he kisses me. If he starts it. Until then,  my body stays asleep. He is my friend and I care for him as a friend,  am afraid to lose him as a friend. Get scared to be rejected as a friend.

With her,  it is her presence that wakes up my body. Her existence in my space.

But I don't think about her when she's not around the way I do about him.

What does that mean?

Day 4 edit

Bitch texted me half an hour later. It doesn't count,  right?

Tell me why it made me cry. Tell me why it made things better.

Tell me why he makes me feel less alone.

I tried to delete him from my life.

I don't know what's real and what's in my head.

But I do feel alone. So find a partner. Find a body to come home to.

Or don't.  There's a deadline. I'll only be hurting them if I stay.

Day 4

Day 4 only has 5 hours left in it. I can do anything for 5 hours. Maybe not ANYTHING
But certainly staying away is something I can do.
Here then is the measure of love. One hurts. Hurts to look at,  hurts to think about. Hurts to remember. The other... a one night stand over staying its welcome. I don't know why I got so attached. When was the moment? When I could have turned back,  turned away,  and didn't.
The car maybe? The ride that one time when he started rapping and his whole demeanor changed?
Was it the day after the first time,  when we had dinner and every moment I was trying to convince myself to break things off with him but didn't.  And after dinner,  being so open and honest and vulnerable and him holding my hand. Making everything ok. Standing by while I used him to heal myself. Maybe it was everything. Maybe it's because he reminds me so much of someone else.
Either way.  It's almost over. I can always bring the deadline back if I really need to. And I want to. I do. So much.

I am so good at being wanted at night.  Not so much the morning after.

Hanging on to things that aren't there. People who don't want to stay. There is no love here. I'd like to go now.

Let me go please.
Everyone.
Me.
Let me go.

My blood is on his sheets.
I thought of you the entire time.

She said, it's about how you feel after. And after,  I feel cold,  and empty,  and alone. But before i also feel cold and empty and alone. It's only when you're here that the world doesn't feel so bad.

I'll say aren't you proud of me,  I haven't reached out in a week. Or more. She'll say,  has he? And there will be pity in that question because we both know what the answer will be. Going for 6 days. Clearing my system a little at a time. Today is day 3, i'm practically half way there. I just have to make it through the day. Tomorrow i'll have work all day and saturday I'll have work all day and then going to see Josh. And sunday i'll sleep in until I have to be at work so i'll be fine. It's practically monday already. And monday will be day 7.

I wished you cared. And you don't. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch.

Stop it.

It's just hormones
It's just PMS
Tomorrow will be easier

Let them go. Let them all go.

She's coming now. Like a horror movie monster you can't out run.

Get through the day. Clean.  Cook. Exercise. Eventually it will all be over.
Shrink into a tiny ball. Disappear.

Counting the days but at least not the hours.

How did you carve a space in my heart?
Why do I let it ache for you?

I never thought of you as anything other than permanent.

I am not a fun person, that is to say, I am not the person one thinks of and says, let's call her, so much fun!

I am a 1 on 1 person, I am a change your life with a deep conversation that lasts all night person. I am a she'll be there when we need her person. Dependable. Strong. A rock.

Who wants to carry a rock around to the party or the movie or the game or just to be. Put a rock in the middle of the room and all it will do is get in the way, you'll have to walk around it. Unmovable.

People have lives. And what is life but the people and places you surround yourself with. I am not a people or place worth surrounding.

And when this happens. When I get like this, I can't help thinking.  Good. Keep it up. If the reason i'm staying is for people, all I have to do is stop trying and the people will go and then I will go. Slip away. So quiet, I won't be noticed. When there is nobody left. I can go. I can go.

She's crawling in bed with me. And in the morning I say, I want to leave and she won't let me. Still it is only today I must get through. Only today.

I don't know what this means and maybe it doesn't mean anything.

But I definitely want to push people away right now. It's just a very sad thing,  that no pushing has to happen. All I have to do is stop reaching out. But if I say it out loud, i'm being over dramatic.  I'm being too emotional.

What does it say about me, that I have to work so hard to keep people in my life.

How do you explain this moment. It's so quiet here. I don't remember the funeral home. Just the body. The way I wanted to stay looking for as long as I could. They dressed him in clothes he would never wear. His body was so hard.  So cold. He didn't look like he was sleeping.  Everyone always said that they look like they're sleeping,  but he didn't. He just looked dead. They had to pull me away from looking. At the end.  The funeral director was very professional.  Gentle and firm. It's time to go now. It's time.

Here. Now. It's the same quiet. I don't know why I thought it would be loud. It's time to go now. It's time.

I'm finding myself judging people for what they're wearing. I don't remember what I wore. I was so numb. Clothes were such a stupid thing.  Mattered so little in comparison.

I hear them all talking and laughing, sharing memories. Good thoughts.  Taking about the photos.  There was nothing like that then. A family who hated itself, hated each other. Just tears. My dad wanted to escape, I walked away from his offer. Everyone avoids the body,  hangs in the back, talks amongst themselves. I couldn't get enough. This was it, the last.

Maybe I am tired of not being chosen or loved or cared about. Maybe I am ready to choose myself.

Maybe.

And maybe it's just one more relationship in my life where i'm chasing after someone who is never going to love me. Who is never going to choose me.

Do one thing.
Start today.
Repeat again tomorrow.

Sex and food. Can't seem to let go of one without clinging to the other. There is no sex here now or anytime soon. It has not been good on my waistline.

I don't know what it is about today that makes me feel like dying. No lover or past or reason other than me. Other than getting out of bed was too hard. Making it to the gym was too hard. Doing anything but distracting myself with noise and shiny colors.  Just until I could get through the next moment.

Living is such a heavy burden i am being asked to carry. This day. It is heavy. I need a thing to look forward to. I am not enough.

She said,  if you are worthless,  if your life is worthless,  tell me what would make it worthwhile? And I don't have an answer. Are you worthwhile if you give of yourself selflessly? Are you worthwhile if you devote your life to a cause? Something bigger than yourself? Are you worthwhile if you are there in support of those close to you,  enough to make them smile. Are you worthwhile if you eat right and exercise every day and take off yourself and those around you? None of this seems like enough today.

I went to the gym twice last week.  I'm trying not to think of that as a failure. I was so present and motivated at work.  I'm trying not to think of that as a failure. A friend said I love you over and over again. It's like i couldn't hear her. It's like it couldn't get through. I need to write maybe? Untangle it all. So I can get through.

Mr s. i.

It was the way you knew when I kissed you that I was only trying to hide. How you told me no, I don't want kisses right now. Just be with me. It was the way you left your hair in my tub. The way your whole body said you wanted me to stay with you for as long as I could. The way you felt so offended, so betrayed, when I ran away.

And I did. Run away. I don't know what it was about that night that was so different from the first time. Maybe it was the darkness. How infinite and complete. How easy to fall into a past that wasn't real anymore. I was trying so hard to be present for you. To be with you. And you were trying so hard to make me.
"why'd you stop?"
"I'm waiting"
"for what?"
"For you. to come back, to be here"

I don't know if you do it on purpose. I don't know if you think I'm a thing that needs fixing. Please don't try to fix me. I am not broken. Let's just enjoy right now. Let's just enjoy each other. In a few months you'll be gone.

or I will

It was the way you wanted to love me. To give me love. And how I wanted to let you. to show you the dark places and watch you hold them in your hand so delicately. And you wanted me to. Told me it was my vulnerability you enjoyed. My honesty. The way I enjoyed you so much.

It was your arms. It was how you said over and over again, let go, let go, let go. I can see it in your face. You have some kind of hero complex. You think I am a damsel in distress. And I am. And yes your arms could be a safe harbor. And yes you could be just the distraction I need. Just the distraction I want. Your lips, your hair, your arms, your width and breadth.

"stop being so scared" And I stop. You have a way of making me. It is a dangerous power I have given you. "put your hand there" "grab it" "play with yourself" "let go" "let go" "don't be scared" "I am here" "I've got you"

One day all these things will be added to the list of fairy tales. I know you meant it when you say it. You just don't mean forever. You will never make me do anything I don't want to do. I know this. AND for you I will want to do things I have never wanted to before, and never will again.


"What happened to that girl you were seeing"
"What girl?"
"Oh whatever, you know what girl"
"I ended things. I think it was all of 10 minutes into the date"
"oh.... why?"
"You know why."
"tell me"
"she wasn't you"

Dating on Tinder be like

one
Love me love me love me. here now. right now. you you you mememememememememe me. "I wrote you a song" all puppy dog eyes and "nice guy" darkness circling underneath. It is not right and I want it. Try everything twice and you are a boy who will break something. I so badly want something broken. The drama of it. Hurt people hurt people. I see the type of girl you want, someone hungry for love and wanting to dive into the over affection of it all. So afraid to loose it they'll do anything you say. You are the ultimate red flag boy. There are hospital rooms in your future for a girl you've made afraid of her shadow. A dark silence worth fearing. It's missing from my collection.

two
you're pretty. fuck me. sup? at 2 am and silence. so much silence. I don't know who you are or who you're trying to be. The epitome of fuckboy musician. Will use you and discard you, dark past just begging for a dumb girl who thinks they can change you. I've never collected one of you either, and I want it. All sweat and dirty attic apartment. A collection of records worthy of envy. Snapple bottles filled with cigarette butts. Dirty in very many ways. But oh so gentle and loving and sweet. It's how you pull girls in. Dark humor and intelligence. You boy from the wrong side of the tracks will close down a bar with me and then ask what the next adventure is. And I want it.

three
It felt like fucking myself. Timid girl afraid to cum. Delicate and strong. Wanted to be held after. I told you I was afraid of getting hurt, but really I'm afraid of hurting you. I felt it towards the end. You let me go down on you for over an hour. You tasted like fear and hunger. Spicy and salty and sweet. It didn't feel like an hour. I held you after. Wrapped myself up in your glowing. Let you venture a hopeful wish to spend the night that I dismissed. There was wanting here. On both parts. But not enough. I was fully clothed the entire time and somehow that felt safer. You kissed me. I let you. You climbed on top and I felt it so much that you wanted to feel me, tender and fragile and open. I couldn't. I already knew if I let you I would cry. But I guess that's what happens when you don't get any for 3 years. You want to love me and I don't want to let you. I want to say snide things like "why don't you blah blah blah with one of your other whores. i don't mean it. But hurt people Hurt people, and there's something so intoxicating about breaking a girl's heart

Four
There's this picture in my head. I'm leaning against a desk. You came over to fuck me. I've had a really long day and I'm trying to be in the moment. Trying not to cry. Not looking at you. You see it and pull my face up. And I say something about how what I want from you is not something you can give me. And i'll say it's ok. And I'll say I'm sorry for feeling too much. And I will try so hard not to cry that it's all I'll think about and if there's any kindness from you, I'll loose it. My voice will crack and I'll say "I could really use a friend right now." But I don't know what you're response would be, and I'd rather have you in this way than not at all. Because maybe what I want, is not your friendship or your sex but to have him back. to be loved. to believe in love. What I want from you is not something you can give, you will never be him. I'm so so sorry for feeling so much.

This is me drowning and you are the trigger. The rule is, how do you feel after right? And i was doing so well until you showed up again. But I don't know how to stop. Time doesn't heal all wounds, you have to do something about it.

I don't know what's the real story of us and what's the story from this rabbit hole.
I lay awake this morning crying over you.
This is the second time you've done this to me. One more and it becomes a habit. So let's reset the clock. If you're just a habit that I have to break, I can clear my system in 90 days.

I should have never had you in my space.
You're everywhere now.
Lesson learned.

It's going on almost a month now. No drowning in sorrow or self pity or gorrow. Still I can't help wanting to tug at your heartstrings and YOUR wanting. There is something so beautiful in being in your bed,  in your arms. While i cry.  You wanting to hold me but afraid to,  me wanting arms I can fight against. A punching bag, that's what it is. What i look for in you. I'm putting us in the dark. I don't know why you ever liked me in the first place. Do you still? Did I ruin it all with my honesty. With my emotions.  With my whole self. I told you I was too much.

Here I am
All wrapped up
Taking a breath
The next moment
And the next
If I wait
Long enough
You'll be gone
Or I will
I forget how slowly time moves for other people. I haven't talked to you in a week,  you talked to me yesterday.  This is what happens when you go down wormholes, have adventures. Like Alice. She came back to the same moment,  a few weeks older. How selfish to ask the world to understand something I don't. I've gotten so old in such a short time.  Gray hair and all.

I don't want to sleep, to go home,  so I've come to make bad decisions instead

I won't say: this is not a good time.  Come back in 4 weeks. Or don't come back at all.  It's not worth it.  It being me.
I did the sleeping
I did the exercise
I did the food
I did the people
And none of it was enough to stop wanting to die. So I am going back to bed. Only for a bit. And i will do the exercise and i will do the food and i will do the people. And tomorrow will be better. And maybe it's almost over. But i won't know if i give up.

How do I let someone in again. Am I scared or uninterested?

Sad day. Just a day. Still got up. Still worked out. Have not drowned myself in anyone, yet. Day is not over. Maybe tonight,  i'll fall asleep right away.  And your absence won't hurt as much, and tomorrow will be better.

Her: You get yourself through the moment. Every moment.
Me: for how long? How long do I want to be doing this for? How long do I have to?
Her: as long as it takes.
Me: it's been decades.  It will be decades more.  Is this really worth it.
Her: it MIGHT be- not it will be. You got through the hard part.  You are worth it.  So very very worth it.

Dear girl,  I'm going to numb myself with your skin. All lips and eyes and sweetness. Gonna whisper nothings in your ears, make your eyes close from the wanting.
Dear boy,  tell me you love me so I can walk away. Tell me you want me. Tell me you miss me.

Once I went on a long adventure with the you inside my head,  we had a whole life together.  When I came back,  I found you just as I left you,  but I was completely changed.  There are rabbit holes on my head, I can't help falling into them.  Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind,  I was never falling for you,  only for the you shaped me inside my head. It was me I wanted all along.

Probably just a cold coming on

It's not that I think this moment is permanent.  I don't.  It's that I know it's not. It will end and then come back.  Over and over again. Forever. How long do I want to be doing this for? I don't.  I find myself wishing for strenght and selfishness. A way out that won't be inconvenient. And death dear reader is such an inconvenience.

But today all I have to do is get through today. Tomorrow I may learn that I am not as alone as I think I am. Or maybe,  i'll finally be strong enough.  But all of that is tomorrow me's problem.  Today me just has to get through this next few hours.

This is a good moment.  I found a thing to look forward to. But maybe it's

Fuck you and your birthday.

Bitch.

Your hair looks very nice though.  Props on that.

I am sitting outside a Starbucks on a warm day.
The breeze is blowing my hair everywhere. I have to leave for work in 10 minutes. I could leave now.  But something about the sun. About waiting. The noises of traffic zooming by.
There's a man smoking a cigarette in his car on the edge of the parking lot.  He is waiting too.
The next moment. 
The next lie. 
The next kiss.
Nothing is sad until it is over and then everything is. 
But everything is always over.  Everything is always starting.

Will I get tired soon of starting? Over and over again.  Oh well. I should go.  There's no point in waiting anymore.

But then this happens,  and I don't necessarily know where to put you.  What box do you belong in.  Other than remembering him. When i would much rather reset the clock. I'm trying to put you in a him shaped box. Sorry,  not sorry.

Sometimes I get the feeling that he thinks he is better than me. Me before him would have believed it every time.  Me after him finds it incredibly annoying. Irony,  no?

I am finally admitting that everything is behind me. But thank you for the dreams, and thank you for the memories, and thank you for the knowledge that you exist somewhere out there. That is good enough. That has to be good enough.

I am sad. And what a relief to be sad about something small and normal and explainable. Is losing you a small thing? A normal thing? Explainable? It will be, years from now, it will be.

I wonder how long, before you notice that I've gone? I want to believe it will happen right away, but I know it won't. It's the reason I'm leaving after all. People show you how to treat them and this is the lesson I gave. It's my doing really. Life is happening by me, not to me. Once again, I am not good enough and too much all at once. What is true in one area of your life is true in many areas of your life. I don't know what the lesson is here. What do I do differently next time?

Will there be a next time? Will she get to me before that happens? I want her to.

I made a choice, and it wasn't the same as yours. This is the part where I push you away as hard as I can. Instead I will give my time to ppl who don't deserve it. So much safer that way.

But for how long? When the rest of life fits into the time it takes to grow a human. How much of it do you waste doing things that don't scare you?

She said, you trusted once and everything went to shit. You learned not to trust like you learned to breathe, immediate and automatic.

She said, you loved once, build a future hinged on someone else's happiness, and everything went to shit. You learned not to love like walking, painful and unavoidable.

But I had a friend once who rolled next to me in a wheelchair and taught me that walking is overrated.

And sometimes, when you kiss me, you take my breath away.

I wonder if you know that I am only trying to push you away. None of this is real. I want you to say, something came up, let's meet another time. It would be easier to handle than this mess. Because I go back and forth, wanting you, not wanting you. Being annoyed by you, being surprised by you. Back and forth, and it's so much easier when someone else makes the choice for me. I do not need you yet, and I never want to get to that point.

The girl said, sometimes people stay. But I won't. Stay. The boy said, being with you was great. We had so much fun together, we had the best conversations. There was a wistful look in his eye, like he was remembering a fond memory.

Ten years from now, you and I will be sitting in a cafe and you will ask if I ever loved you, and I will look wistful at a memory and say no, I didn't, but I wish I had. I don't know what you would say.

I still don't know what to make of things.  Of you. Every day I run away,  every day I come back.  I don't know how to ask.  I don't know what the question is.

When did I stop trusting myself? When did I start? Are we born that way? Trusting? Like mindless pets. Listen to her,  she said.  Listen to her,  and hold her,  and buy her things,  and read her favorite book,  and love her so much that it spills out. Love her so much that there won't be any room left for fear or sad or angry or broken,  or hurt.

There is a lifetime left here. Or maybe just nine months. Remember that my dear.  When things are hard.  Remember that.

Because they were love letters really.  All those notes passed back and forth. Because that's what it was to let love in. To say, I am here, i am with you, your smile is my happy place too.

Today was a good day. One good day in this sea of bad. And there are so few joyful things in this world.

I cut myself off.  From everything.  From everyone.  And now there is nothing left but me. And I am not enough.

The are noises in the dark.  Echoes and ghosts.  I'm trapped.  I can't move.  Won't move. Things go bump in the night.  The walls are getting tighter.  I don't know how to get out of here. Why is this.... over and over again.  What a dangerous place this is. What a lonely place this is. She is coming,  closer and closer.  I don't know how to get away. I am crumbling.

Maybe it's time I start thinking about medication.

What are you doing? This is not allowed. You weren't supposed to be here.  But you kept at it, kept poking and prodding and being there. Don't you know if you keep following this path you'll end up in a place you don't want to be in. You will end up hurting me and you don't want to do that.

Dear ghost boy, every day it hurts a little less. Every day it hurts a little more.

I'm giving you a chance to surprise me. But I'm already mourning this future loss.  This past loss.

Always mourning.
Can't seem to put you down, put you away. Don't want to.

We used to be so honest with each other, and now all I do is not say and not say. But it's easy to say when things are easy, and nothing is going on. Not now, now there are worlds building in my head, all the what if's and maybes and scares and feelings. So much filling up inside me from all the not saying.

Ten years from now i'll be sitting at a diner with him having a club sandwich with sweet potato fries. Picking at my food. Not really trying. And I will say, there was a boy once. He was a boy pretending to be a man, and I was a woman pretending to be a girl. It will be true.

But will there be a 10 years from now?

His voice is never your voice,  and now that I know he is just a ghost of you, there will always be a moment just before he says hello when I will want to hear your voice. And there will always be a moment just after he says hello when I'll realize all over again, every time,  that it's not you.  And you will die all over again.

Dear ghost boy,  please,  stop calling me.

Dear ghost go away please.  But want to stay.

One day,  the ghost came back. In the shape of a boy with an easy smile and a kind heart. One day the ghost boy made me feel like home. Like family.

These things are too much.

Old me would run away at this point and choose safety instead. Destruction instead.

What if I want to keep the ghost boy around because I want to punish him for leaving. To make him feel the way I did. Not say out loud the deadline ever looming above our heads. Above MY head.  There is no our and never can be.

She said,  take the week and write about the why of a thing.  About why it's so hard for you to accept love. She doesn't know,  there is no love here.

He said,  my dear,  don't you see,  this door was closed and he opened it for you. And I cried and the song came on the radio and I had nothing to say.

Don't you know,  dear boy,  heartbreaker,  my heart. Every day I wish I was coming home to you,  not your ghost.

Today I keep deleting the first line over and over again. I've sat in front of this laptop for an hour now with nothing to show for myself other than things don't change, they can't. Here are some deleted first lines:

There was a boy once-- there is always a boy isn't there? in that annoying way they have of being.

I was going to tell you about my name, how you gave it to me. It was from a joke but when you said it, I was crying and you were trying not to touch me, not to comfort, and so you whispered it with such tenderness that it became my home. Once, you were the boy.

I keep telling myself I am not broken, say it over and over again until I can believe it. The truth is maybe I want to be, because broken things can be fixed. In china they fix them with gold so a thing can only be beautiful after it is broken.

There was a girl, and she was yelling at a boy, telling him to walk away. He didn't. But that doesn't happen in real life. In real life, If I push you away enough times, you will actually leave. We keep pushing each other away, don't we? I don't know how to let you love me. I have only let you in this far because you promised me you wouldn't love me. It's so much safer here. lonelier too. We keep playing with fire. I don't know if I want to get burned.

There was a girl once. I still love hearing the sound of her voice. I think sometimes about the after. All the places I have left MY voice for others to take comfort in. There are so few, and I have so much left to say.

After publishing the first blog post

Did you think, I wonder, that I would air out all the dirty laundry? That I would open a door that you forced me to shut. Did you think, all those bruises and scars didn't work. To shut me up. To keep me quiet. To control me.

Be glad. Feel proud. They did. You won. You always win. There is no cat to let out of the bag here, and noises in the dark still scare me into submission. I have made my box larger. I can occupy more space now. My desk is out in the open and there are quotes written in permanent marker on my furniture. But rest easy knowing you will always own me. My body still cringes when someone enters my space. The nightmares still come at night sometimes. The quiet still screams in my head so loud that I can barely hear the world outside.

Was this what you wanted? Can you breathe a sigh of relief now? It's ok, don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I will drown in it soon enough and you'll never have to worry again.

I thought it was a thing that I could use to find a way to reach for something more for myself.  It worked before you see.  But this world too has lost its luster.  Nothing is shiny anymore,  and I am left to find myself, by myself.  I do not know how to ask, what do you want from me? Without it sounding like I'm saying,  i know you are here to hurt me and I'm just waiting for this too to implode.

It's hard to stand my ground

When you call me names

When I agree with everything you are saying.

Yes,  angry person,  I am a terrible human begin.

Yes, the world could do so much better than me.

Yes you deserve better.

But here we are.

It was all at once. immediate and painful. I am still reeling from the blow-back. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Shhh

...i'll tell you a secret. I'm  not ok. Very much so. I don't know where to put that just now. So i'll just hold on to it and this too will pass.

Dear boy, I wish there had been comfort in your arms.

There is nothing left to say beyond that. There wasn't. comfort. But thank you anyway.