Oh, fucking god.
I walked home from the bar tonight. I left my car key with Al.
It's because Stacy was there. Then, when I got home, of course we had to have a horrible drunken IM conversation.
What the fuck? If she's going to TOTALLY ABANDON ME, why can't she just TOTALLY FUCKING ABNDON ME and not continue to rake me across the coals? Of course, I was pretty frank with her, which was not nice. I still feel like shit, though. Why does she get to win?
If I've told you that I love you in the past week, I love you, obviously, and not Stacy. The bitch still fucks with my head, though, and you're far away, and I'm a stupid fucking idiot man-thing who just wants someone to say, "okay, yeah, you can stop worrying about it now."
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Update: Hangover.
I'm a complete mess. Insecure. Roller coaster. No legs to stand on. My problem is a huge pool of availabler, glitzier, richer men. God, I hate myself for nine million conflicting reasons. I stopped on the bridge over the freeway for a long time on my way home last night, and it was Not A Good Thing.
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Update: This is going to be one of those journal entries.
I seem to like to not let myself heal. That always leaves the worst scars. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could say that I think I'm boring, and am trying to give myself character. I wish I could say for sure that I hate myself and am doing it out of spite. I wish I could say that it's because sanity has jumped the shark--
A thunderclap pealed outside just now. Maybe the universe is conspiring to... well, not amuse me, exactly. Devoid of other emotion, I might be amused. Maybe it's just conspiring to make me feel like the object of a conspiracy. That would be pointless, but... amusing, maybe.
Aw, hell.
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Update: It's amazing what the tiniest thing from the right person can do.
I walked home from the bar tonight. I left my car key with Al.
It's because Stacy was there. Then, when I got home, of course we had to have a horrible drunken IM conversation.
What the fuck? If she's going to TOTALLY ABANDON ME, why can't she just TOTALLY FUCKING ABNDON ME and not continue to rake me across the coals? Of course, I was pretty frank with her, which was not nice. I still feel like shit, though. Why does she get to win?
If I've told you that I love you in the past week, I love you, obviously, and not Stacy. The bitch still fucks with my head, though, and you're far away, and I'm a stupid fucking idiot man-thing who just wants someone to say, "okay, yeah, you can stop worrying about it now."
-----
Update: Hangover.
I'm a complete mess. Insecure. Roller coaster. No legs to stand on. My problem is a huge pool of availabler, glitzier, richer men. God, I hate myself for nine million conflicting reasons. I stopped on the bridge over the freeway for a long time on my way home last night, and it was Not A Good Thing.
-----
Update: This is going to be one of those journal entries.
I seem to like to not let myself heal. That always leaves the worst scars. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could say that I think I'm boring, and am trying to give myself character. I wish I could say for sure that I hate myself and am doing it out of spite. I wish I could say that it's because sanity has jumped the shark--
A thunderclap pealed outside just now. Maybe the universe is conspiring to... well, not amuse me, exactly. Devoid of other emotion, I might be amused. Maybe it's just conspiring to make me feel like the object of a conspiracy. That would be pointless, but... amusing, maybe.
Aw, hell.
-----
Update: It's amazing what the tiniest thing from the right person can do.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
thefox:
Sounds like you're all over the place at the moment... focus on the positive, the rest will just screw with your head.
thefox:
It's difficult, and it'll take time. Sounds like you're getting good advice, though. The hardest part is following it.