I just realized that yesterday made nine months since my last breakup. That means eight months since she tried to mind-fuck me. That means eight months since she turned everyone I thought I could count on against me. That's a handful of death threats and at least one attempt to carry through.
That's also nine months of paranoid seclusion broken only by a handful of excursions with some new friends. That's nine months of not letting anyone get close to me--either emotionally or physically.
Oddly, today is the first day I've felt really alone. I can't recall when I've felt so absolutely tired and...I don't know how to put it. It's a rare thing that my vocabulary doesn't have a word for it.
All things are as they must be.
That's also nine months of paranoid seclusion broken only by a handful of excursions with some new friends. That's nine months of not letting anyone get close to me--either emotionally or physically.
Oddly, today is the first day I've felt really alone. I can't recall when I've felt so absolutely tired and...I don't know how to put it. It's a rare thing that my vocabulary doesn't have a word for it.
All things are as they must be.
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Women are lame. That's the #1 reason why I'm not a lesbian. (The fact that I