randomrockstar

From the very first note of the song, I could tell it was going to be one of those songs
I put all of my metaphorical cards on the tableif I won this hand of solitaire, which was unlucky because I had been losing all of the hands that night, I would call Rtomorrowand tell R everything. Secretly I knew that my luck should turn soon, no one, especially me, loses at solitaire this much, and being somewhat destined to win the next hand I was in a quandary about my feelings on the matter of calling R or not. Id kept myself from text messaging R the past two nights, when I wanted to talk to R the most, and I thought that I was finally getting a grip on this stressful situation.
So when I won the game, I turned on myself and denied that I really did get a sign one way or another. The more that I thought about it, the more and more that I did begin to see it as a sign, a sign that read bad and there I was, being born right under it. It was destined to be that way Yes, destined. Or something just like it.
So I called R but he was on the way out of town to somewhere, and I didnt want to be the cause of a car accident or a bad night, so I told R to call me later to which he verbalized his probable inability to do so that night and I acknowledged and thought about another time as I slowly hung up the phone.
I have so many questions to ask R, so much to tell R about. All I know he wont want to hear about, but I figure that if I have to hear it, then he does too. Ill admit that I hear it everyday, not all day, not anymore, not the way it used to be, but I hear it last before I fall asleep at night and first thing when I wake up in the mornings, and usually in my dreams. I try to plug my brains ears and distract myself with music or movies or anything, but it manages to get in and I hear it anyway. I thought that it would go away, thought that the pain would lessen, and it has, but its still loud sometimes and the wound is still in stitches and irritating.
He has made himself an unfair comparison to guys that Ive dated before R and guys I will date after R. Its been six months and the more that I try to ignore it, the more obnoxious it gets. The good times suddenly seem so much better and the bad are all but forgotten. But I still have to hide his pictures from sight, his face and his touch from memory.
There is really nothing for me to do. I am in a spot, and even though its my spot and Im slowly getting comfortable here, Im slowly eating my insides out with questions and what-ifs when Im three thousand miles away from my problem and my solution. There is really nothing for me to do, except
All I can do
I can only tell R how I feel. I can only tell R how I feel. I can only tell R how I feel.
And wait for nothing, because there will be nothing. There will be no more words. There will be no more breath. There will be no more dreams or tears, no sunsets, no moonrise, no music, no silence, no drug that could possibly have an effect on me after the words are out of my mouth. After that there will be nothing. Nothing left to do or say and nothing to run to, to hide under, nowhere to go, no one to go to. I will be here, and he will be there and that is the end of it.
Now I just have to make the decision.
I know that eventually I will make an ass out of myself and do it, but I also know that itll be so much worse after Ive continuously beaten myself up over it for longer than I already have, and then he breaks off that last chunk of loving heart with the solemn note of the dial tone.
I had a dream about R last night. It doesnt surprise me, as a matter of fact, I wish that I didnt dream about R at all because it happens all to often. I wake up with my heart broken all over again it seems.

I sat down and tried to draw something today, but I couldnt think of anything to draw. I think that writing is the art that I need to stick to
Here it is, already May. Im alone now, in a new city with a new job. R isnt the one, and I no longer know who I am and I dont trust my own judgment. I thought so for sure that we were going to be together for a long time, but once again I was wrong. I left, and R let it happen. R went to live in Florida and I went back to California. Went back to working for the fire department, and I am nostalgic for times long ago, and part of me deep down wishes that I never even set foot in Massachusetts. Never met all those friends that Ill never see again. Never fell for R. Now Rs just another ex that I will wish that I never met. Just another person that had to break my heart and forced me to add another name to my increasingly long (and ultra depressing) list. Im just another girl that fell, stupidly. I hate that I dream of R every night and I hate that I miss R so much. I hate that a part of me died when I left that morning. I never wanted to go back to California, and now Im back and miserable on the inside. Its been so long and I still hurt. I want to forget R Im walking alone, and even though I try to tell myself that Im better off here and alone, looking out for number one, I know that its not true, but I seem to be fooling everyone. Everyone but myself that is

I hate your stupid mohawk hair
I hate the way that you don't care
I hate your face, your lips, your eyes
I hate the way that my heart cries
I hate your brain, the way you think
I even hate the way you stink
I hate your beautiful tattoos
I hate your awesome Misfits shoes
I hate it when I sleep with you
I hate the fucked up things you do
I hate waiting by the phone
I hate knowing you're not home
I hate the stupid lies you speak
I hate my knees for being weak
I hate your heart up on the shelf
And I hate the way I hate myself

Love (or something just like it) sucks.