I miss him. It's weird and I know I probably won't miss him in a couple of days, I'll be back to my blase mindset but right now all I want is to feel him next to me. His arm across my stomach, his hand clasped in mine, just the feel of his chest underneath my head. He's so sweet to me and so patient. Some of the things he does or says is super cheesy and makes me laugh but he always goes along with it. He calls me cute and perfect and he's willing to tell other guys to shut up when they're talking shit about me. In this moment I wish we could have something more than random hookups at random houses. And in this moment I know it won't. Maybe in a while. Maybe when he gets back from China, maybe when he's over whoever hurt him, maybe when I'm able to get over what she did to me. All I want right now is to be with him, not even to make out or whatever but just to cuddle, just to sleep next to him. It's ridiculous, this, so why do I continue on?

imsorryimsorryimsorry

Talked to Scott today for a bit. Had a nice conversation. He's going to Toronto for Reading Week and I mentioned I had been planning on moving there. He asked why I didn't and I just said it was personal, that not even my best friend knows the entire truth. And that's where my head has been stuck all day. Thinking that, you know what, even though I talk a lot I don't really say a whole lot with meaning. A lot is made up, a lot is just omitted from my stories. Nobody really knows a whole lot about me. Yeah, they know something has happened, both over a year ago and earlier on in my childhood but they don't know what. Or maybe they do, maybe they know every instance that has driven me to this madness. Every time I stepped off the curb too early, every time the teacher had to phone home to remind my parents to pick me up, every time she crossed that line and every time I thought it was for the best, it was what she wanted and what I felt didn't matter. Every time a friend has stopped talking to me for a reason I knew but have tried to erase from memory. I've grown up in a privileged and fucked up house. I can remember clearly the day I came home to find my mother crying because my father had just left. The day I quit ballet, the one thing I loved, and my parents didn't do a damned thing to stop me. They gave me every opportunity and never forced me to stick to one thing. I wonder endlessly what would have happened if I had stayed in ballet, if I had stayed in modeling, if I hadn't quit guitar lessons, if I had stuck with volleyball, if I had shown up for rugby practices, if I had said yes to soccer instead of no thanks. I want to let go of everything from my past and just start new. I want to drive somewhere and never come back. I want to forget her lips on my thighs and the way I wanted to say no but could only say yes to her and even when I did say no she still touched, she still couldn't let go. So much has built up in my head and I know it's all stupid, I know there's nothing I can do now but go forward, that my past isn't that bad, I had it way better than a lot of kids. Nobody ever hit me, nobody screamed at me, or abandoned me at the first opportunity. I'm just a stupid little daddy's girl who has had almost everything shoved at her and I should be fucking grateful but I'm not and I can't understand why. I want to destroy myself because it's what I deserve. Nothing else in this world is meant for me except for my own destruction.

I don't know why I still keep on hoping one of these days it won't end up the same. That there won't be some excuse. I don't care if it's true, it still hurts. I won't cry. It's not worth it. He's not worth it.

I feel sick to my stomach. I'm just letting every thought get through today, just letting everything hit me so I can truly feel like shit. I can convince myself that nobody would care because I know nobody does. This doesn't even have anything to do with him anymore. Now it's all about me because I know I'm not pretty, I'm not fashionable, I'm not desirable. I'm not anything special.

I wish I was so drunk I couldn't remember my name, couldn't remember my life. This is how I feel most days, I just can't go through with it. That's the story of my life.

This is not where she thought she would die, across the street from a Page Cleaners.

There are times when I forget where and who I am. Sometimes it freaks me out but most of the time I just wish it lasted longer.

Tonight proves just how much I inadvertently destroy everything around me including myself. I know I'm no good with people, with friends, I just don't know why I keep trying.

I may have took too many but I know it's not enough. I wish I didn't.

my fingernails have dirt caked underneath. my skin has turned slightly grey. old skin is peeling off around fresh cuts. I still live in boxes, nothing of importance lays behind cardboard. it could all be thrown out, I'd probably never miss it.

and I'm too tired to pretend it doesn't hurt to be left out

I hate feeling shitty, like my life isn't worth anything. Yet, I can't convince myself that it is.
I hate that an old photo can make my heart ache for a need to be apart of something meaningful.
This is not where she thought she would die, across the street from a Page Cleaners.
She never planned this when her alarm went off that morning, that she would drop out of college and get hit by a car in the same day.
Another moment in my life to regret.
I still regret every moment with her, every time she held too tightly, too close, too intimate. I regret convincing myself that everything was her fault when the blame falls on me. I should have stopped it the first night. By the third things were too broken to fix even though she tried while I couldn't look her in the eye any longer.
I wish. I wish.
Her life. Her life.
It's been a year. Stop living in the past, forget what she did, but it has settled in my veins. I need to cut them out, cut her out.
Why am I such a mess? Why did I create this life for me to live?