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[Jul0709] |
Fuck this. I don't want to be this way, but the idea of sleeping without you tears me up. Insides out. I would spill my guts on the floor, but you're the only person I feel comfortable sobbing in front of. I am crying in our bed, not bothering to wipe the tears because I'm tired and soon is never soon enough.
I'm sorry that I'm crazy. But I want want want. I recognize that it's not a necessity. I won't die without your skin and your scent and the soft sound of your voice, but sometimes it feels so close to need that I confuse the two and I'm left in bed with just the faint imprint of your body from this morning.
How melodramatic. I'm not trying to be a bitch on the phone. To be that girl that demands you align each and every detail of your very existence to fit some perfect schedule crafted in my head. I was just empty today. So hollow I could hear the echo of my heartbeat against my ribs. So tired that thoughts dripped from one neuron to the next, breeding indifference that seeped right into my bloodstream and infected my entire mindset. I wanted your face and your hands and the safe, calm place that you and I create.
There's no one else and that makes me feel even more alone.
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[Apr0409] |
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Google is telling me it's 78 degrees and it's not even 10AM. What the fuck is that shit? I am awed that Boston chose to skip straight from Spring into Summer, weather-wise. Half the trees outside don't even have leaves on them yet and it's already ridiculously hot outside.
I am so tired, but the heat makes it hard to sleep. Just a few days ago I was relishing the feeling of waking up cold and burying deeper into my comforter, especially on Sunday mornings. Now the fan is on and we've kicked the blankets from the bed and all I can think about when I clothes my eyes is how warm my skin feels and how my hair is getting so long that it's becoming a burden for summer.
I only have two and half weeks of classes yet. No finals, but I should probably get my shit together in terms of the work I have to finish. Two papers and three presentations and then it's summer. Well summer but with the added bonus of working on my APA poster and reviewing as much literature as humanly possible in order to get a leg up on my senior thesis next year.
I finally got a job. It's a smoke shop that's been in Harvard Square for 126 years and I generally stand about with my co-workers and ring people up on an ancient register and spend every break with William since he's only a few doors away at Bob Slate. Twelve an hour and I get to wear cute dresses and the days go by fast. Thank god for being employed.
Thursday: Instead of getting any kind of real work done I drove with Will, Brayman, and Bun to North Adams. We ate hot dogs and I saw MCLA and then I got really drunk on gin and we went to see Ghostface perfom. His set barely lasted 30 minutes, but I got to dance with him on stage and scream all his lyrics and he gave me a hug. If we had stayed the night I probably would've figured out a way to have sex with him, but I was too drunk and both Will and I had to work at 9AM. Still one of the best moments of my life thus far.
Today I am going to drive William to work. Go to the gym. Finish a paper. Classify interviews. Lay out in the sun. Mmmmmm. Sun.
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[Mar0309] |
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mood |
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 blah |
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I've been high since 3PM and I stopped smoking at 5PM. Alyssa smoked me up and fed me and was generally really wonderful. I didn't have anything to talk about because I was too stoned and tired.
My chest is really tight and nothing helps so I'm back to breathing like the did in high school. Attention cough is in full effect.
Quitting cigarettes sucks, but I was a good girl today. One god awful rollie using old tobacco. I'm not so bad about them mentally right now, but my body is screaming out for that nicotine relaxation. Fuck.
I keep sneezing and my nose is always stuffy at night and I wake up in the morning with a dry throat and flecks of dried saliva all over my lips from breathing through my mouth while I sleep.
I haven't done any real school work since Thursday and I don't want to drive to Lawrence tomorrow. I wish I could just go to the gym and read William James and then only be on campus for maybe two hours and come home and read some more. Whatever. I'm just sick of driving.
Will carried me up a steep hill last night. I hate parties where I don't know anyone. Being really fucked up makes me hyper critical and easily annoyed by everyone. I didn't say anything because I was scared I would just start saying all the times I was thinking. I wanted to go home but I ate cupcakes and was passive aggressive towards Will until he took me homea
I've been picking fights non-stop, but only with William. I would like to blame it on the nicotine withdrawals and how close Spring is. I felt really good yesterday when it was warm and I wore a skirt and drove to Waltham and listened to music in the car. Will and I walked around Harvard on his lunch break. I was happy and it was nice. Right now I feel sort of grumpy. Nothing is ever enough and I don't know what I want. To just seethe and seethe, I guess, but then when you turn away I'm angry again. I have the feeling this is transient so I'm trying to not invest too much worry into it.
Yeah!
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[Mar0309] |
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mood |
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 weird |
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So I filled up my head with dreams of you. Projections of the future and the past, tangling all the love stories I had ever heard into something that was silver-rimmed and tasted like saltwater. I supposed you to be the sea, cold and chaotic, but calm beneath the surface. I would float on your existence or tether myself to the buoys that became your voice. I wanted to be your lighthouse, that shining beacon you lapped against even when the wind did not press you to my shores. But my light went out. I was disused without a keeper. The oil that made me shine had run out because the men who hunt the whales were turned away by your waves. You did not know. I did not know. I will become landlocked, making my home in a place where the only waves are wheat and seagulls do not nest. You will become blue ink on the map that hangs beside my bed. I will trace my finger over red lines of roads, the names of cities we did not see together. I will rise each morning and stare into the sunrise, thinking of the sea until it is no longer you. Fill my head with dreams of other people, other times, until my memories sink beneath the waves.
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