jackthegirl

It's hard to feel sad when I was the one doing the wronging.

When he left I actually slapped myself and bashed my head with two tight tight fists. I don't know why, it completely out of my control. I haven't cried like that in a good long time.

i am amazed to see that things actually happen the way i write and read them in stories. after twenty minutes of uncontrollable sobbing, I became the "hollow shell" cliche. Don't know how that happened. I worked in all senses of the word, I fucked around on the internet, called up my friends, tried to do my homework, made plans to go to our trademark Greasy Spoon Cafe. But the floor was out from under my feet and it felt like I was walking around upside down with my center carved out and placed in his pocket and he was slowly turning further and further away.

But I shouldn't bitch, because I brought this on myself.

The worst part was when he left. That was painful. It was like ripping a piece of fabric down the center and being surprised when your hands get covered in blood.

It's been a bad day.

So I bought a pair of shoes.