I Love You

Well. Look what I've gotten myself into now.

Also, so much for blogging more often. Story of my life.

Anyways, I've managed to stay in this relationship. Been 14 months now. Woo! Yea, no, things got better from that last entry. But I mean, on here, my most commonly used phrase is "things got better." Not that I'm lying. That just seems to be the pattern. And possibly maybe they'll get worse, since that is the usual follow up from the former. I digress though.

We've made enough progress that I agreed to move in to his apartment when my lease came up in November. I had started staying overnight a few times a week for a bit before then leading up to it, so I guess it wasn't too much of a surprise. Though it was interesting and slightly funny; I had thought about the notion for a little bit when I was getting closer to moving out, but I knew there was no way in hell I was ever going to say something. I'm still playing that card I guess, being afraid of being the too needy clingy committed girlfriend. However, the most interesting and slightly funny part was that he suggested it instead. There was really not much pretense there, I wasn't going to say anything and was content on an apartment search and was, well, quite frankly, oblivious to the idea that he even cared that much. Once again, up to that point, I had heard NOTHING on his end about how he actually felt for me. And I was petrified I was going to end up that girl who really loves this boyfriend she's living with, and he's just in it cuz it's convenient for him but doesn't have any feelings past that. That's a horribly scary feeling you know. We had been together for almost a year at that point, and I wasn't even sure what his long term intentions were. The few "serious" talks we had often led to him talking about how in all the relationships he was in, he had known from the start they weren't going to work or for him, yet he stayed in them for like two years. I was more than terrified that I would get to that two years and mean nothing. And all along, he would have known that.

Sidenote: I'm still pretty scared of that. It's been soothed a decent amount, but it's still there. We'll hit that again.

The funny thing is that when I started taking him along to look at potential apartment options, every time he would actually speak candidly about the relationship and be a little more open. Unfortunately, I had (and still have) a problem being clear and verbal about how I felt with our situation. My mind just gets blocked and I can't spit anything out. But I wanted to know that at least down the road, providing there wasn't something serious that would end it, he was planning to stick with me and have me in his life. I had no intention of leaving, and I needed to know he felt the same.

Now, it's easy to see that my perception of myself and what relationships are clouded my mind a decent amount in this whole relationship, but it seemed dangerous that we didn't even acknowledge a future with each other when this notion came up. Which was another talk. And where my perception and defense mechanisms did nothing in my favor. There was no mention of futures or love or marriages because I hissed and fanged at it, made fun of it, mocked it, and generally hated it. Well yes, we know this, that's practically what this blog was founded off of. But he's a guy, and apparently was too oblivious to understand I did this because I wanted it and didn't think I could ever obtain it. So he wasn't going to say anything. It's like, a huge wound that to this day is still healing I think. And it's funny, cuz that hurts so much feeling like I can't obtain it. It's like double wounds but now for all different reasons.

And he never opened up much about himself or his past or even past relationships, girlfriends, family, or otherwise. And without opening up, why would I live with the person? How could I say I knew him? And again, each time after we were done looking at apartments, he would. I spent at least a month analyzing and debating what I wanted to do in this situation. As the girl, I always wanted to spend time with him and be around him, but I'm not a big fan of "convenient commitment," which is how I categorize most shacking up situations. It's commitment, kind of, for as long as it's convenient for the person. Then you're done and you move on to the next convenient commitment. Without anything more like that paper or ring, you can freely and easily do this for as long as you want. And that makes it hard to trust the relationship.

I guess in the end, I wanted to try it. I never believed I'd be in a relationship, let alone one approaching a year with a person who wanted to share his home with me. That just wasn't going to happen. I figured it may be the only chance I'll ever have, and I liked the guy, and he was such a better person than I ever thought I'd get or deserved to begin with. I felt safe, to say the least, and I guess that was half the battle. He honestly saw the next step in relationships as living together and well, that's what this society tells us and goes by, so I guess I had to follow it. I did get worried if I said no he'd break up with me since we wouldn't be able to "escalate" the relationship and try something new. But in the end, it was ultimately my choice and my curiosity and well, my rebellious nature that gave me my decision. Also, cheaper rent.

Since we've lived together, things haven't been too tough. We often have a natural way of getting along with each other, and when we go out and do things, we get along even easier. It helps we share the same childishness and love of theme parks and water parks and halloween and haunted things, so when the year anniversary came around, we spent the weekend hitting up as many haunted places in the cities we could get to. And he has gotten better with giving me compliments and telling me how he feels. He's an action kind of person (seriously, that's his love language), and I can see it in how he regards me and remembers things. 

It's not all perfect, obviously. I battle with sometimes feeling aced out, especially by his cell phone. I think I prefer to show my feelings by being more physical (not the sex thing), and I often wish he'd just play with my hair or my skin and just idly run his fingers all over me. I do it all the time to him, and touch his face a lot, and he never does any of it to me. Maybe I just have to speak up with that. And I've had a few breakdowns and times when I really felt like he didn't care, and quite often it's from a perception that I wanted to spend a little more "one-on-one" time (or what I defined it to be), and he didn't see it so didn't do it. Or I wanted a romp in the sack, and nothing I did seemed to convince him to come with me.

Ah, sex is a bit of the sore spot. I'm either a nymphomaniac or hornball whore, or he has considerably low testosterone. Guess we don't see eye to eye on how often things should happen or on what we define sex as. I see it as a huge release of the stress and tension of the day, and can take it... Well, a lot, we'll just say that. And sometimes I feel he sees it as work. It's not a reliever for him. Well, sort of, but it's physical work to relieve something, and that can just be too much work. And I can feel neglected and even ugly and often wonder why he doesn't just play with my body and stick his hands down my pants to make me feel good when I tend to do that a decent amount to him. I wonder why I'm the only one that gives head and I wonder what that says about my body. It's more of the insecurity than frequency problem I think. It makes me incredibly insecure.

But, we're even working on that. And slowly I'll get better at vocalizing what I liked him doing and reinforce him when he makes the first moves and we'll be fine. First relationship for this girl, remember, and this kind of communication stuff is going to take a bit for me.

And the last stop on my now bitch festing blog, the thing that easily is wearing on me the most but that I try to put out of my mind: It's been over a year and I live with the guy, but we haven't said I love you once. Not even in accidental passing or accidental almost. No almost slips, no signs that the notion is even there. This was one fear I had before moving in that is being realized. I thought it strange to live with someone when you haven't even said I love you. Shouldn't you love the person you're living with? I got a lot of feedback from people about this, family, friends, married, not, and the general consensus was "love will come, don't ruin a good thing." But now, I know how emotionally attached and connected we are with each other, and I feel we are companions, I've been told by people that they can see he loves me and that I should marry the guy, and even my dad says he can see how much this guy cares for me, so why has it not been said? I'm deathly afraid, I can't do it, I can't seal my coffin with that last nail. Yes, it's been hard to know what love is, especially for me in this new territory, but I have no doubt he's said it before to other girls and probably meant it. I'm scared I'm just not it. You can have all these feelings for another person, care, loyalty, respect, trust, but this other person can just be a roommate, a really good friend. What if I'm a roommate and that's it? I've battled with myself a lot about if I was in love or not, and yea, it's hard for me to figure out or understand. I've gone from not really caring to I think loving the idea of being in love but not loving him, to what I think is quite genuine love. I know how my body feels and acts and reacts around him or apart, in private, in public. I can feel from how he acts and reacts around me in these settings too. And I know I was going to be careful and not just feel and fall in the infatuation puppy love state (tho ironically that never really happened), but at this point, I don't think this is that. And it does desperately wear on my mind, and I can usually keep it out and at bay, but every so often it rears its ugly head and I don't know what to do or where to go with it. What do I do now? Say it? Fuck no, I mean, isn't that what guys are afraid of? But he doesn't act like most guys and he's been hurt... But at some point, if you felt something, wouldn't you just have to say it? He suggested the moving in thing first after all.... But I don't want this to just be a passing statement. It should mean something. And maybe I'll never know. I figure I'll make it to a year and a half and finally ask where this is actually going. Dating ends two ways: Break up or get married. Getting married implies you love the person. I'm still afraid that after two years I'll have turned out to be nothing, and the way it often feels, this may be the case.

Overrated

Well, I don't know about you, but I think I maybe should've never tried to be in a relationship. The funny thing is, I think I could handle a committed relationship with an other half and companion who I know equally shares how I feel about them as how they feel about me. I think I would be really good in that kind of relationship. I think I could flourish and blossom and my self-hate and self-destruction and bad way of life could be turned around and I'd be a really awesome person. I'm that kind of person and in that kind of place ya know?

But alas, this is not the case. Hah, just celebrated a 6 month anniversary and all I can come out of it was a drunk bender that I went on by myself that turned into a mental breakdown. Seriously, it was something out of Skins. I somehow was 2 seasons worth of Effy in one day. I'm not proud....

As a person, he's a good guy. He's decent enough, funny enough, cute enough, fun enough, got a few interests in common with me, all good. But I don't necessarily feel like I'm in that relationship where you are considering the other person every day. You genuinely want to talk to them or miss them or think about them and you're not afraid to show it because you really want the other person to know of that care and consideration. Until I broke down, I never once heard him saying anything about caring about me or even that he considers me with anything in life and it's really hard for me to continue in a relationship where I don't hear anything.

You know, there is so much in me that wants to love and be loved. I desperately want to know what it feels like to be in a loving relationship with a significant other equal and I have so much love to give. I'm so passionate and fiery and I will show you my love and care with hand holds, face caresses, soft kisses, deep hugs where I let my lips rest on your neck, but what I get in return feels cold. I'm scared that all we really are are fuck buddies who are being exclusive activity partners. We get along well enough to be friends and like to do things together and well, sex is just sex, but so often that seems to be the only "relationship" notion there is. I've never been in a real relationship before, but I have a feeling this isn't it. And that sucks.

I suppose there is something to be said for starting out as friends and gradually getting to know each other before you just go and hop in the sack. With that, it almost seems as if you SHOULD be dating, but that is so often not the case anymore. So why hold onto this hollow fleeting notion that we are actually something special and meant for each other? If you can't once even hint to the idea that I mean something more and real to you, then what is the point of staying in this exclusive relationship? I want this deeper connection, a more meaningful one, and I try to exemplify it by telling him I miss him when I'm gone for a weekend, trying to find time in a busy schedule to see him, get ingredients for dinner to make for us, try to have something fun planned, but it's never really translated. Therefore I've pretty much stopped doing all of that. And I'm away right now at my parents' and I've been here since Wednesday missing him deeply but getting seldom responses when I try to connect with him (I promise I'm not doing the crazy girlfriend thing texting every 5 minutes "where are you" "why do you hate me" "what did i do" "who's the girl" etc etc) and it makes me see this "relationship" we have is only a friendship. He regards me as a friend and therefore I am not the highest priority in his daily life. While I regard him as more, but I suppose that's how all girlfriends are.

I'm so scared of the notion that all men look at girlfriends as annoying emotional balls who say I love you too soon and expect ridiculous things like consideration and respect from them when they don't give a damn. I'm beginning to think that no relationship has love attached until *maybe* they get engaged. Maybe then the guy gets it. But, hah, saying you have a girlfriend? It doesn't mean anything past you've got a constant shag. You don't love her. You like her. You like doing things with her and you like doing her. You're not deeper than that. And your girlfriend? She's always felt empty and just needed that other person to be there, to be a constant, someone who isn't a relative but who she can be just as comfortable with around. So she falls first, and she falls harder, and she just has this love that she's ready to give. And all men can be are scared of it, loathe it, run from it, ignore it, ridicule it, and they break the girls in half.

I was really missing him and was willing to change my schedule a bit so I could get back there and spend some time with him Sunday, but after this, what's the point? I have nothing else to say to him now, and there is no way in hell I'll ever admit my feelings now, even just the missing him and wanting to see him feelings. This is painful you know. Painful to feel unwanted and unloved and just as painful to not be able to admit feelings to a person.

I think the funniest thing is that my dad never could understand the phrase "the relationship wasn't going anywhere" when he heard it until I got a boyfriend. Now he understands it all too clearly. What's that called? Irony?

Refresh!

Uh....huh. Hah. Well. This was a.... long hiatus. Almost made it a year. Well fuck.

Hah anyways there is absolutely no way I can even begin to try to summarize this almost year that has passed. Like, seriously, no. But highlights! We'll try highlights!

(Although my highlights tend to turn into essays but I digress really)

So where I left off, I was miserable with my roommate. Well, I continued to be miserable with her. We had drifted apart and all our beliefs that once seemed so similar couldn't be as distant from each other as the two coasts. Maybe from that I took in a rebellious streak, or really just acting out morally and ethically or whatever. Which really only meant I was acting hedonistic compared to the roommate who kept telling me she was convinced I was doing wrong things and had a wrong view on God and blah blah blah. Personally, I never lost faith in Him whatsoever. I never lost faith in the idea that I was on this path that he put me on and everything was happening for a reason. My faith alone could get me through. And she was trying to act on works, which is always the one thing they say doesn't work and it was just so hypocritical.

I got my first job on a feature film. It's called Death to Prom and I can at least give you that and tell you to look it up since I believe it was just recently completed. I was only a PA and came on last minute, but it turned out I knew the line producer and production coordinator and it wasn't long before they had bumped me up to Key PA which essentially just meant that I was kinda the PA the other PAs came to when something was up. And I got a few extra duties cuz I was fucking good at my job and it was nice. Hot. It was June and it was hot and miserable sometimes. And yea, I had a huge epic breakdown one day, but it was bound to happen. It was just getting stress out for the most part. It's a change on your body when you start working 12+ hour days and you don't get home until 6am sometimes. (And you almost get stuck in a flash flood in the middle of a highway at 5am but once again, digressing...)

I don't exactly remember what happened in July, so we'll skip that. August came around and by crazy happenstance, I was able to put some of my fx makeup skills to the test for a short film that was ironically filming near my hometown. And that still makes me laugh since I moved to Minneapolis to get NEAR the film scene and then I went back home to work on one. Not as long hours, but miserable with the heat. And it was dirty, which really made it fun. I pretty much spent weeks slathering vaseline and dirt and mud and whatever else I could find on people and rip up their clothes. Later on, I did get to make a few wounds. Tho my favorite part was covering the actress in pale makeup and creating cracks and bruises and such like she had been running in the woods for weeks. Such awesome makeup.

Also, end of August came something I never in a million years expected. I...for lack of a better term... met someone. Like a human being. Like a human male. That stayed in my life.

Lol, I'm so smooth talking about it. Hah, I'm still trying to get used to it to be honest. And in a lot of ways, it's not all what I expected. I knew there was work, I just didn't know how exactly my psyche and body would work in relation. To be honest, the physical stuff was not a problem at all. That's how it all started, surprise surprise with me. A somewhat chance encounter due to a mutual friend on a night where I was particularly low. In fact, she barged in with him around 9 one night, right around the time I decided to go on my nyquil and vodka bender again.

Oh, hah, that might not be something you know. Yea, no, I started playing nyquil+alcohol nights. And just generally sneaking swigs of captain or vodka or whatever I could get my hands on when I had to be social with the roommate and well, that was the path I was on. All I wanted to do was escape, and that's all I would try to do.

Ok, back to the boy. It was a chance encounter, and I ended up out for drinks with nyquil in my system which didn't exactly make me the life of the party. But once a topic of interest (Doctor Who) came up, that changed. And well, that was a short and sweet night. On a whim, the next night they ended up back over since I was having a take out/drinks/Silent Hill gaming night with a friend to begin with. Well, give me alcohol and I become quite the little playful minx and it didn't take long to cozy up a bit with him. I never expected anything to go anywhere, and I had remembered his original history with my friend which hadn't exactly been exclusive or anything...long term? So I figured hey, this would be fun. Maybe get a little action, feel a little wanted, desired, let the guy do what guys do best. And it worked. He was forward, touched me, was flattering in ways I wasn't used to, and made the first move kissing me. And it was a nice night, minus the insane humidity and two bodies trying to share a couch. The next day we all planned to go to the Mall of America anyway, and somehow by the end, both girl friends abandoned us to ourselves to play in the theme park. And this is really corny and lame and girly and gross and stupid and something I would never admit to saying, but at night in that theme park, it kind of felt magical. And like a date. Which way later was pointed out to me by many people that that is indeed what it was. I had been scheming that whole day and packed an overnight bag that I didn't really tell anyone about. The roommate was having a dinner party with the boyfriend's family, and I was not planning on walking back into that, and I figured I'd find somewhere to crash. Which ended up being his hotel room. It didn't suck. But he lived in Virginia and that was his last night. All of this added up into my head as being a lovely string of hook ups but that was that.

Not exactly. He pursued me, asked for my number first, texted me first, remembered when I was at work, and soon we were talking every day. I believe our first text conversation lasted 6 hours. I guess it became more and more clear that this could be something, and while I welcomed it, I wasn't sure what to be feeling. But September was big, and we skyped every night and even got in the habit of taking our computers to bed and falling asleep on skype. By October, he had decided to move up here, so I flew down for a weekend and drove back with him. And that was a great weekend.

Also, October I had enough with the roommate and somehow managed to score my own apartment near downtown and now here I am. And seriously, I'm leaving it at this cuz this is too long. I need to get back into writing daily, so hopefully this is not the last post of this year. Anyways.

Things Got Better...

And then they got worse. And even worse after that. What the fuck is wrong with my life?

A month and a half in a nutshell:
The few days after this last entry was written, the roomie and I had a huge talking out session (or two) that finally put us in the realm of caring for each other in a more real and not faking it sense. Practically everything that's ever hurt me got out, we had good talks, she was so nice and supportive. She left me a few notes and emails in the religion department that I needed since I seemed to have lost my way (which was true). That was April 5th.

It didn't take long for April to heat up for me in the real world with three different jobs that all required a lot of energy and everything from me, and slowly but surely the stress and business began to eat away at me little by little. Her work life had turned incredibly busy as well and there were weeks where we would go a few days without seeing each other even though we were still living together. And, not like it mattered since I was never home during her waking hours, any of her free time became devoted to the boyfriend. But it was quite a divide, spending waking hours separate from each other, having other people to focus on, the amount of stress one is put on when managing a film festival while managing and supplying the wardrobe and props for a film, and quickly my body became hollow.

It's like something flipped in my brain and body that said "You're so busy right now that no one would blame you if you became self-destructive." So I stopped eating. The hunger took the place of the need to hurt myself because I still felt the same emotions when he was over. I had started understanding some of it before then, but knowing I could get away with not eating and feeling that true hollow feeling in your stomach was exhilarating. I read somewhere one of the attractions to starvation is how it makes you feel light headed and high and I had never experienced that, but I was doing so much physical activity that it didn't take long for it to kick in. And I loved it. And then I discovered how much I loved never being at home or when coming home looking like I had this huge purpose and was always on the run and that did give me a feeling of purpose.

Somewhere in there we tried to have a roomie day out to bond and watch Lost and do everything we had done that had become an "us" thing that lasted until about 6 when her boyfriend showed up and they went out for dinner. Oh well, I didn't want to monopolize her time anyway. I just knew there'd be a problem when we were talking about life and she said that maybe we could schedule time with each other every other Sunday or something. Now it's just an appointment.

Also somewhere in there and I can't remember if it was before or after the roomie day, she called me out. We had decided to do a movie and I didn't hear all the plans she actually had and was frustrated and also driving and blew up while on the phone with her. It shouldn't be a big deal; it happens. But I was distant the rest of the night and trying but just failing at being anything other than aloof and I guess she caught on if her standing in the dark behind me after I just got home and saying "So do you wanna talk about what happened today?" was any indication. She never said anything about my specific behavior of self-destruction, but at this point it was just an elephant in the living room. She also continued on with suggestion I see someone about my anger which made me all but laugh. Yea, I bottle things up and eventually they come out, but it's rare and also NORMAL. Then there was talking about that she could tell how miserable and hurt I was holding in myself and that it made her feel bad and that I needed peers who would be there for me and I needed Christian peers to help me with the spiritual stuff and that I'm in her life and she feels for me even though we're both soo busy we can't spend time together. Ugh.

My crazy schedule ended briefly, for less than a week really, before I found another film project to be a part of and a screenwriting class and my usual commitments, and she got increasingly busy with having to go out of town on weekends for work. And when she came home, time was devoted to the boyfriend. And on occasion the best friend. And if I thought I was dark and deeper that last weekend in April, it was nothing compared to the darkness and desolation that's taken me over since May started. Maybe because I was trying to deliberately hurt myself by going to a party (that was classy for the film festival mind you and I stayed classy while I was there), drinking as much as I could, and ending up at some guy's house to engage in some... Bedroom fun with him and a friend. In some ways I haven't gotten over that because it was so unfulfilling for me. I didn't need much, and I knew something like that wouldn't solve anything, but just for a moment, I had hoped it had done something for me. Because I wanted it and I deliberately sought it out. There was just... Nothing.

And now, back to the present, and maybe to actual rants about the past. The last weekend when she was out of town yet again, I discovered something shocking and kind of painful. I'm happy when she's not around. I mean, I felt fine. I was eating again, I wasn't tired, I wasn't just hurting and trying to fight it away. And when she came back... With a friend might I add, my heart just sank. My entire body just sank. And everything came into perspective. It was clear.

I had been forgotten about and disregarded long ago. The little shpeel about how she cared for me and that I was in her life was all but a lie. If that was the case, she would have made the effort to maybe ONE night out of the week spend it with me instead of going out with her boyfriend or going to his place or him coming here or doing it all in one day. And then came the other hang outs with other friends and actually that's the only forgivable thing the night she came home with her best friend because she needs to work on that relationship. It got fucked after the boyfriend came around. But then came the his and byes and meaningless chatter that only lasted 10 minutes a night if we were lucky, but of course here came the boyfriend to get hours upon hours with her.

Ok, I'm ranting. The bottom line is this: I've been hurting because I've been replaced. There have just been so many times where she comes home and says "What are you doing tonight?" and when I reply I have very little, it looks promising that it will finally be my chance, someone walks through the door. And I'm kicked down again. It's just... For once, see me? Because I feel horrible when I look at you. We aren't warm to each other anymore. We don't leave notes for each other anymore. We don't even have anything to say to each other anymore. And I'm so angry and frustrated that it seems like everything she ever said to me was a lie, a complete joke. Because I know you're busy, but if I was important, wouldn't you maybe take one out of the 3 nights you have free to spend with me?

But I get it, I get it, we have priorities. Her relationship priorities are the boyfriend which makes sense since you have to get to know them I guess. I wouldn't know anything about relationships like that, but I guess it seems you should get to know each other which comes with time. And then the best friend which I know has its own hurdles and crevices thanks to the boyfriend situation, the dynamic change and all. And then other friends that have a longer history with her. And then there's me. And you know what? That's fine. I won't be the one to blow up, to tell her what she should do or what she hasn't done or how she should feel or act. She chooses her own life and she has. And I still care enough about her to know she's going through her own hard times at work and I won't be the person to attack and hurt her at a time like this. Because it would hurt her if I just let it all out. Even though it's supposed to be emotions and feelings that supposedly she likes to talk about, this isn't my place. It directly affects her too much. And that's why I keep silent when I'm around her.

I could've stayed content with that, but the past week seems to have become too much for me. I broke down last night when I realized I was ready to sacrifice every single positive thing that has happened to me here to just go back home and get out of this house. But I had had enough. I feel like a stranger in this house and that with the amount of time those two spend together, they may as well just get married already. They're having dinner parties here, going out with friends and then coming home and watching movies all night, just crap that has gotten ridiculous to me. We are at two completely different stages of life, and we need to go through them separately. That's why I won't dare attack or criticize what she's doing, because it's completely appropriate for what stage of life she's in. But I need to be somewhere else.

I'm foreseeing something intense and probably bad happening in the future. But I also foresee we might not see each other for almost a whole week this week. I'm keeping myself busy tomorrow, Tuesday I AM busy all day and then driving back home until Friday. And ya know what? Maybe that's what we need. Hurts me a little thinking about it, but I hurt no matter what.

Bed Ridden

Well. This day hasn't gotten any better.

Actually it was when I was out of the house. Had a fairly long production meeting that went really well and I think I'm showing vulnerability there that is super important for the producer and director to see and give me positive feedback. And I really just didn't want to come back to the house. I knew my roommate was having a grill out thing with her church small group and while I've met them all before and participated, I just wasn't having it tonight. Had some good food that I barely ate but it was good, and then snuck up to my room the second they were getting ready to discuss something. Just... Not tonight, ya know?

And now all I can do is lie in bed and hate myself. Hate what I'm feeling. Hate that when I went downstairs briefly, they were there on the couch and all she could do was give me a wink.

I just want to know why I'm feeling this? Why am I crying? Why do I hurt so badly? Why is my body breaking on the inside? Why when I look in the mirror I don't know who I'm looking at? Why do I have to be hurting myself again? Why do I so badly want to start slicing my arms up? Because I know I can do it deeper there with more control, and then I can look at it all the time and feel a calm. Because I took these feelings I don't want to have out of my body. I hate this. And I don't know if I feel so bad because I've regressed or if I just feel bad about my environment. And I feel bad that I might feel bad about my environment. Because up until this point my environment has been lovely. And I hate the thought that my roommate gets wise and begins thinking it's about this new development because I don't want to make her feel bad. And I honestly don't give a flying fuck about this couple thing. I don't care when he comes over, I don't care if he comes over, whatever time of day. I don't care, she can do whatever she wants, I'm ok with that.

Then why do I feel like I'm dying? And why does it flare up when he's here?

Fuck this. I'm not gonna be some passive aggressive bitch and make her stop the best thing that's happened in her life in a long time. I'm fine with suffering, but she doesn't have to.

I just wish I could tell her things. I should've been able to do this long ago. I'm a virtual stranger and shell living under this roof, and that's not right either. It's almost 10:30. That's an appropriate time to sleep, yea?

Declared Healthy

"And sent back into the world. My final diagnosis? Recovered borderline. What that means, I still don't know. Was I ever crazy? Maybe. Or maybe life is. Crazy isn't being broken, or swallowing a dark secret, it's you or me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child forever..."

~Last one, Girl, Interrupted

What Would You Have Said to Her?

"I don't know. That I was sorry. That I'll never know what it was like to be her, but I know what it's like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. And you try to fit in, but you can't. You hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside."

~More Girl, Interrupted